Jack vs the pink toad
by superwhomerlin2000
Summary: Jack Frost goes to Hogwarts undercover as a fifth year student. He falls in with the Golden Trio, and develops a dislike for a certain Dolores Umbridge. Order of the Phoenix; close to canon
1. Prologue

Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore was angry. The good man, who actually wasn't all that good, was, in fact, livid. Not that it showed. Dumbledore was very good at covering up his emotions. So while Minerva fretted, Severus glowered, Hagrid stared and the rest of the staff reacted in varying degrees of emotion, ranging from shock (Professor Sprout) to glee (Filch) he appeared quite calm. The good natured twinkle never left his unerring blue eyes,and his face renamed calm and placid as he seethed.

Dumbledore had shared the letter from the Ministry with the staff mere moments ago, and whilst they processed the news, his mind raced, searching desperately for a solution. The ministry was sending in one of their own as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Dolores Umbridge. An idea came to him. Perfect. Dumbledore stood quickly.

"Where are you going?" Minerva asked tightly. He turned, eyes sparkling mischievously.

"To visit an old friend."


	2. Old friends

Jack Frost, guardian of fun and prince of mischief (not king, unfortunately, that title went to April Fool) was preparing to strike again. With the help of Sandy, who just liked pranks, some elves, they too thought it was fun and REALLY liked Jack's cookies* (though he forced them to NEVER tell ANYONE he could cook, on pain of major revenge, and no one wanted that) a few yetis, with the promise to spare them from his mischief for as long as they helped plus two months, and BT, his next prank was nearly prepared. The Kangaroo would kill him, but it was worth it.

Jack continued tying some knots in the string, with Baby Tooth's help, when North's booming voice rang out "Jack, come to globe room!" Jack cringed, praying North had no idea what was going on. He was setting up three different pranks, one for Tooth, Bunny, and North. They were setting up Bunny's at the moment, and though the actual prank would take place in the warren, santoff claussen had more tools, allies, and less chance of being caught.

Jack frowned at BT. "Keep working." He muttered, before dropping from the beam and flying towards the globe room. Jack heart swelled slightly when he saw the multitude of shining lights on the globe. It had been three months since the battle with Pitch and life was back on track, and better than ever. Jack had believers, his memory back, and best of all, a family. He smiled slightly at the thought. He flew into the globe room and instantly froze.

There was a stranger standing there speaking to North and the others. All the guardians were gathered at the pole for the monthly meeting. They claimed it was for work, but it usually deteriorated into North and Bunny arguing about which holiday was better, Tooth fussing about the sugar in the cookies, Sandy drinking eggnog and getting frustrated when the others didn't notice him, and Bunny nearly killing Jack.

The stranger was a tall old man, with silver hair and a beard to match, so long they could have been tucked into his belt. His face was kind, with sparkling blue eyes peering out from behind half moon glasses. His nose looked as if it had been broken several times. It was his clothing, (and the fact he was a stranger in the pole, but go with it, for descriptions sake) that gave Jack pause. The man wore long sweeping silvery blue robes.

Jack eyed him warily. "Ah, Jack, good" North exclaimed, "Now we begin".

"Who is that?" Jack gestured to the man. His face crinkled in a warm smile.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore, I'm the headmaster of Hogwarts" Jack raised an eyebrow slightly at the name, Hogwarts. Sandy flashed some high speed images at Dumbledore.

"Yes, why are you here, at the pole?" North deciphered. Sandy smiled and nodded. "I'm afraid I need help" Dumbledore explained. "I fear the children at the school are in grave danger, and seeing as its your job to protect the children, I thought you could help. If Jack went undercover as a student-"

"Wait, me? At school? No way." Jack interrupted. That earned him frowns from the other guardians.

But Dumbledore merely smiled, "Jack, Hogwarts is no ordinary school. It is a school of magic."

* * *

Two hours and a lot of convincing later, Jack had finally 'agreed' to go to the school. So there he stood, weird glowing potion in hand, preparing to disguise himself as a fifteen year old human. He glared, alternating between the blue liquid in the glass vial, and the other guardians. Jack took a deep breath. "Here goes nothing", and knocked back the viscous potion.

He gagged on the foul liquid, coughing and choking, nearly losing his breakfast. He gasped as his throat burned. It felt as if a rush of molten led made its way through him, followed by a wave of pins and needles. The painful burning sensation died down slowly, leaving Jack weak and shaky. He stood from his doubled over position, leaning heavily on the table. He found himself about an inch shorter than he had been before.

The mini fairies instantly swooned (except Baby Tooth, she seemed immune to all but the most adorable puppy eyes) , and a few dropped from the air. He smirked slightly, if shakily, and, with a collective sigh, the last few fairies hit the floor. BT twittered and settled into his hoodie, still unaffected by his human guise, other guardians stared, Tooth a bit dazed looking.

Jack frowned. "What?" He expected to change a little, sure, but that wouldn't warrant such a reaction from the others. Bunny wordlessly pointed to full length mirror. Jack walked over and looked at his reflection.

A fifteen year old boy stared back at him. He still wore the same clothes, a bit loose now, but the frost patterns had faded. His skin was still kind of pale, but not nearly as much as before. A slight tinge of pink touched his cheeks. His eyes were a similar striking blue, but flecked with amber brown. His hair was brown too, not like when he was human though. It was strange. Colored reddish, chocolate brown shot through with silvery white streaks. This, paired with his signature smirk, meant he instantly gave off a 'trouble maker' vibe. All Jack could think though, was '_oh, crap, Tooth is going to go crazy_'. He was definitely right


	3. diagon alley

**so, the thing with the staff is a really common thing but, go with it. :) enjoy! ****Thank you for the favorites and the follows. Gosh, three follows and a fave in one day, I squealed really loudly and my everyone stared at me like I was insane, well, insane-er **

Bunny tossed some clothes at him. His t-shirt and hoodie would still be fine, but he was given a new pair of jeans and tennis shoes. He left BT outside and changed quickly in the bathroom. He stepped out feeling uncomfortable, the jeans were fine, it was the shoes that bugged him.

Tooth had to try hard to suppress a squeal. Younger human Jack was just so cute! His silver streaked hair was just as unruly as usual. His large blue and amber flecked eyes tugged at her heart, that, paired with his swoon-worthy smirk, sparkling white teeth and newly acquired youth made her protective instincts kick into overdrive. It was also kind of weird to see the boy she had a small ( huge) crush on turned into a fifteen year old kid.

Jack glowered, "happy?" He muttered mutinously. Bunny chuckled , Jack glared murderously. He was not happy with his situation.

There were only a few weeks until school started and North was taking him to some place called Diagon Alley. Said Cossack pulled out a snow globe and shook it, muttering "brick wall entrance, Diagon Alley" before throwing it. Jack thought it oddly specific, but shrugged it off mentally. "Come, we get your school supplies" Jack sighed and followed North through the portal.

It lead them to an ordinary brick wall, a dead end. "North, this is a wall." Jack sniped dryly. The large man smiled at him, eyes twinkling in an 'I know something you don't' manner. He tapped a few seemingly random bricks. An archway appeared in the wall, Jack could see people of all descriptions bustling about.

It was a sea of colors and noise in the crowded market. Jack found himself staring around him at all the incredible shops, the magical menagerie, quality quidditch supplies, and, best of all, Zonko's joke shop. But North made sure to steer clear of Zonko's, shuddering at he idea of what Jack could do with the aid of magical prank supplies.

He was enough trouble as it was, first stop, Madam Malkins robes for all occasions. "Jack, you get fitted for robes, I go to Apothecary, meet me at book store" He handed Jack a stack of wizard money and shoved him into the shop. A kind looking woman strode over to him "Hogwarts dear?" She asked. Jack nodded and she towed him to a fitting area.

Five minutes later he stumbled out of the store with a package in hand. He hurried over to North's tall form waiting outside of flourish and blots. The Cossack was weighed down with a large pewter filled with potion ingredients, vials,books, ink, and quills. Jack frowned, " how'd you get everything so fast?" The large Russian simply smiled, eyes twinkling.

"Last stop, Olivanders. We need your wand."

Jack stopped,"no. I have my staff, I don't need a wand."

North frowned, "Yes, you do."

"No. I'm using my staff."

"You can keep staff, but you need wand." North insisted, Then proceeded to drag a protesting Jack through the crowds.

The store, Olivanders, was dim and gloomy, with narrow boxes stacked everywhere in teetering piles. The door jingled when they stepped through. In another atmosphere the tinkle of the small bell would have been cheery, but here it was just depressing. Jack was curious, obstinate protests forgotten momentarily. The cool, slightly dank air smelled of dust and the lights were low.

"Hello" a misty voice sounded from right behind him. Jack jumped and turned. An old man with silvery eyes stared intently at him, the scrutiny was rathe uncomfortable. "Jack here needs a wand" North explained.

"Ah yes, good" the creepy old guy, Olivander, Jack assumed, flicked his wand. A tape measure began flitting around Jack by itself. Olivander dug through a pile of wands, pulling up a slim, dusty box. The tape measure fell to the floor limply. Olivander pulled out a slim wooden rod and held it put to Jack.

"Holly, 6 3/4 inches, Phoenix feather, sturdy" Jack took it uncomfortably. "Well, give it a wave." Olivander instructed. Jack did, feeling very foolish. Some black boxes flew from there positions. "No, no, no." Olivander pulled the wand back. He studied a new wand,

"palm, 5 1/4 inches, dragon heart string, swishy." Jack barely touched it when it sparked violently and flew across the room, nearly impaling North. "NO, certainly not!" Gasped Olivander.

It took eight wand to find one that worked. A straight, smooth, pale yellowish wand,

"Loblolly pine, 7 inches, unicorn tail hair, strong, springy." The moment Jack grasped the smooth handle the temperature in the room dropped by several degrees and the windows frosted over. A pale bluish glow emanated from the tip and a cool tingle spread up Jack's arm. Olivander nodded slowly, large pale blue eyes gleaming.

"Yes." He muttered softly. He looked to North "professor Dumbledore contacted me about another matter?" He asked.

"Yes, Jacks staff."

"Of course" he held out his hand for Jacks staff, reluctantly Jack handed it over. Olivander disappeared into the back of the store.

He returned a few moments later holding a miniature version of Jack's staff. Olivander handed it back to North, "Say engorgio to bring it back to full size and reducio to shrink it again. Jack nodded as North strung it on a cord. "Eight galleons for the wand." North payed and they left the store, loaded down with school supplies, and headed back to the pole.

* * *

**sorry about any errors and stuff, I don't have a beta yet, and I'm at the beach and sadly lacking a certain HP book. **

**OK, so I tried to separate it so it would be easier to read.**

**and TWO REVIEWS! thank you thank you thank you! *faints from delight* **


	4. The Train

Jack woke to a very loud, familiar Australian accent. "Oi frostbite, wake up!" Bunny shouted, " it's nearly time to go to school." Jack swore he could _**hear**_ the malicious grin. He groaned and rolled over.

"Don't remind me" his voice was muffled by his down pillow. Jack might be able to function on less sleep but, given the choice, he preferred a solid night of rest, and loathed early mornings. He closed his eyes to fall back into the blissful unconscious.

Bunny, however, had other ideas, with an "oh no you don't" he shoved an ice cube down Jacks hoodie.

Now, being a spirit of ice and snow, Jack didn't mind the cold at all. That isn't to say he preferred cold, no, like any person he enjoyed the sun, hot cocoa, a warm fire, and thick blankets, etc. But, he was also quite unconcerned by cold. However, an ice cube down the shirt is in no means the most pleasant experience. It was wet and, more than that, surprising. He jackknifed to a sitting position and, in one smooth motion, Bunny whipped away the pillows and blanket.

Jack cried out in irritation and glared daggers at the smug pooka. At that moment Tooth fluttered in followed by BT. She left the other fairies outside, she didn't want them fainting. Again. "Good news" she announced happily, " North says BT can come with you." Jack smiled at that.

BT chirped and flew over to Jack, sitting proudly on his shoulder. He climbed out of bed, there was no way he could fall asleep again, and followed the others to the globe room.

A few hours later they stood between platforms nine and ten. A temporary glamour had been cast for Bunny and Tooth to make them look human. Bunny was tall, tan and muscular, with short black hair and forest green eyes. He had tattoos in place of the dark patterns that graced his grey fur. Tooth, Jack had to admit, was very pretty as a human.

She was petite, with feathery black hair and tan skin. Her eyes remained a startling purple, she had multicolored side-swept bangs, and metal feather earrings that dangled from her ears. She seemed to exude energy.

Sandy toned it down a bit as well, becoming a bit less gold, lorax-ish, and a lot less, well, sandy. North had explained how the platform worked before hand, but Jack was still kind of suspicious. North strode confidently through without hesitating, and the others followed.

Jack stepped through hurriedly.

The platform was bustling with people, cats of all sizes and colors darted around, owls hooted irritably, and toads croaked at odd intervals. There, gleaming in the middle of the chaos, was the Hogwarts express.

After hugs from Tooth, Sandy, North a manly handshake from Bunny, and stern directions to wright every week and remember to floss after every meal, North helped him haul his trunk onto the train.

After some searching Jack managed to find a mostly empty compartment, the sole occupant a strange girl with long dirty blond hair, huge blue eyes, and an upside down magazine. "Is it alright if I sit here?" He asked. Her huge, permanently surprised looking eyes flicked over him. Eventually, she nodded silently.

Moments later he heard voiced outside of the compartment and a pretty red head peeked inside. She looked surprised to find Jack there. "Oh, hello, who are you?" She directed the question to Jack, so he assumed she knew the other girl.

"Oh, I'm Jack"

"Nice to meet you Jack, I'm Ginny. Is it alright if we sit here?" Jack glanced at the strange blond, she hadn't even glanced up from her magazine.

"Uh, sure."

"Thanks," she entered the compartment followed by two boys. One had a round face and a nervous air. The other was skinny, with black hair almost as messy as Jacks."This is Neville," Ginny gestured to the boy struggling to maintain his grip on a squirming toad, " and this is Harry."

"Hello, I'm Jack" he introduced himself again. Harry nodded politely as he put his trunk on the rack.

Jack turned to BT, who, much to her displeasure, had been forced inside a cage. She glared fiercely at jack, tiny arms crossed in front of her. Jack sighed and unlatched the cage. Baby Tooth was off like a shot, and began twittering madly at Jack.

"What is that?" Ginny asked curiously.

"This is Baby Tooth" he introduced the tiny fairy. The blond finally looked up.

"Is she a fairy?" She asked, In a slightly dreamy voice.

"Uh, yeah, she is." He frowned at the girl.

"Oh, this is Luna Lovegood." Ginny interjected. The blond, Luna, smiled dreamily. "She's my year, but Ravenclaw." Jack nodded, North had explained about the sorting and the houses already.

"Wit beyond measure is a man's greatest treasure" Luna sung. Jack eyed her warily, _okaaaay, she's crazy,_ he decided. She raised her magazine, The Quibbler, so that it hid her face and fell silent again. The boys shared a look and Ginny had to suppress a giggle.

The train rattled on through the countryside. It was an odd sort of day, a patchwork of sun and shadows, as if the sky couldn't decide if it wanted to be cloudy or not. After a few minutes of silence Neville spoke. "Guess what I got for my birthday?"

"Another remembrall?" Guessed Harry. Jack frowned at the strange word.

"No, I could do with one though, lost the old one ages ago." Neville dug around with his free hand, and, after a few moments of searching, pulled out what looked to be a small, grey cactus. However, instead of spines it appeared to be covered in boils. "Mimbulus mimbletonia," he announced proudly.

Jack frowned at the strange looking plant. It was pulsating slightly, making it look sinister, and reminding Jack of diseased organs. "Uh, what?" He asked. Neville looked scandalized.

"It's really really rare, I don't think even the Hogwarts greenhouse has one." Neville's smile snapped back into place " I can't wait to show professor Sprout, my great uncle Algie got it for me in Assyria."

Harry hesitantly spoke. "Does it-er-do anything?" He asked.

"Loads of stuff!" Neville announced happily "It's got an amazing defense mechanism. Here hold Trevor for me," he dumped Trevor into Jack's lap. Luna's protuberant eyes appeared over the top of her magazine to watch what Neville was doing. He held the plant up to his eyes, tongue between his teeth, chose his spot, and gave the plant a sharp jab with his quill.

Liquid squirted from every boil on the plant in thick, stinking, dark green jets. It hit the ceiling, windows, and spattered Luna's magazine. Ginny flung her arms up in time, and merely looked as if she was wearing a slimy helmet. Jack, busy holding onto a squirming Trevor, and Harry, protecting BT, got face fulls of rancid slime. Neville, also soaked, shook the worst from his eyes. "S-sorry," he gasped, "I haven't tried that before... didn't realize it would be quite so ... Don't worry though, stinksap's not poisonous." He added nervously, as Harry and Jack spat out the sap.

Jack wiped his eyes and glared at Neville as Baby Tooth peeked out from behind Harry's hands, chirping apologetically to him. At that moment the door to the compartment opened and a very pretty, dark haired girl peeked in.

"Oh... Hello, Harry" she said nervously, "um, bad time?" Harry wiped his glasses. When he caught sight of the girl he fidgeted, embarrassed.

"Oh, um, Hi Cho." He stammered.

"Um..." Said Cho awkwardly "well... Just thought I'd say hello... Bye then." Rather pink in the face, she closed the door and scampered off. Harry groaned and slumped in the seat, Jack clapped him on the back, hiding a smile.

"Never mind" he said cheerfully, "we're wizards right? There must be a way to get rid of it?"

Ginny smiled and flicked her wand, "scourgify!" The stinksap vanished.

"Sorry." Neville apologized again, in a small voice.

About an hour later the food trolley had already gone by. Harry and Jack were testing each others nerves with berty box every flavor beans, while swapping chocolate frog cards with the others, who were finishing the pumpkin pasties. Just as Harry was about to nibble on the edge of a strange yellowish bean two others arrived.

A girl with bushy brown hair, and a boy with very ginger hair. If he were to hazard a guess Jack would say he and Ginny were siblings. They were accompanied by a fluffy ginger cat with a smushed face and a tiny, shrilly hooting owl. Baby Tooth zoomed into Jacks hood at the sight of the cat.

She didn't mind the owls as they were caged, but a cat prowling around was a recipe for disaster. "Whoa," he cried, pointing to the cat, "put that thing away."

The brunette frowned. "What's wrong with Crookshanks ?" Baby Tooth peered out from Jacks hood a twittered furiously. He raised an eyebrow in a 'does that answer your question' expression.

The freckled boy sniggered slightly before flopping down on the far side of Harry. The other girl was coaxing the cat into a basket. "I don't think we've met, I'm Hermione, that's Ron." She introduced, still struggled with the fluffy ginger monster. Ron nodded, his mouth filled with sweets.

"I'm Jack."

"Thanks" Ron managed "I was starving."

Hermione had finally tamed the miniature tiger, and took her seat. "Well, there are two fifth-year prefects from each house." She looked thoroughly disgruntled.

"And guess who's a Slytherin prefect?" Said Ron, eyes closed.

"Malfoy" Harry practically spat the name.

"Who?" Jack asked.

"School bully, along with his goons, Crabbe and Goyle." Ginny explained.

"Yeah, and that cow Pansy Parkinson." Added Hermione viciously "How she got to be a prefect when she's thicker than a concussed troll . . ."

"Who are Hufflepuff's?' Harry asked.

"Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott," said Ron.

"And Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw," added Hermione.

"You went to the Yule Ball with Padma Patil," said a vague voice, everyone turned to look at Luna , who was gazing unblinkingly at Ron over the top of The Quibbler.

"Um, yeah I know I did." Harry replied. Jack was confused.

"Ball?" He asked.

"Last year there a dance." Hermione explained.

"That's not a regular thing, is it?" He asked nervously.

"No, it was for the Triwizard tournament." Ginny assured, amusement evident in her voice. Jack nodded, relieved. North had explained about the tournament last year, and what Harry had seen. Jack also knew about how the wizarding world was trying to discredit him.

Hermione stood suddenly. "Come on Ronald, we have to patrols the corridor every now and then." Ron stood.

"Oh yeah, and we can give out punishment to people for misbehaving. I can't wait to get something on Crabbe and Goyle..."

"Ron," Hermione admonished sharply. "You're not supposed to abuse your position."

"Oh yeah, because Malfoy won't abuse his at all." Said Ron sarcastically. Hermione crossed her arms.

"So you're going to descend to his level."

"No, I'm going to get his mates before he gets mine." Ron corrected.

"Oh for heaven sakes, Ron-"

"I'll make Goyle do lines, it'll kill him, he hates writing," said Ron happily. He lowered his voice to Goyle's low grunt and, screwing up his face in a look of pained concentration, mimed writing in midair. 'I . . . must. . . not. . . look . . .like . . . a . . . baboon's . . . backside." Everyone laughed, and Jack decided he liked Harry and Ron, though he was uncertain about Hermione still.

Though everyone enjoyed the joke and laughed, no one laughed harder than Luna. She let out a scream of mirth that caused Hedwig to wake up and flap her wings and Crookshanks basket to tip over, hissing. Luna laughed so her she dropped her magazine and had to hug her ribs, tears of amusement falling from her huge eyes.

Nonplussed, Ron looked around at the others, who were now laughing at the expression on Ron's face and at the ludicrously prolonged laughter of Luna, who was rocking backwards and forwards, clutching her sides.

Jack noticed Harry scoop up the magazine from the floor. His eyes flitted over the words. "Hey Luna, can I borrow this?" Luna nodded, still breathless. Harry flicked through the pages, pausing now and then to read, his face disbelieving.

"Anything good in there?" Jack asked. He wasn't really interested in what was in the strange magazine, he was just bored.

"Of course not." Hermione snorted scathingly. " the quibbler's rubbish, everyone knows that."

"Excuse me," Luna snapped sharply. "My fathers the editor." Jack winced.

"I - oh," said Hermione, looking embarrassed. "Well . . . it's got some interesting . . . I mean, it's quite"

"I'll have it back, thank you," said Luna coldly, and leaning forward she snatched it out of Harry's hands. She rifled through it for a moment, then flipped it upside down and continued reading.

At that moment the compartment was opened again. Jack frowned and looked to see who it was. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Harry grit his teeth in a resigned, irritated sort of way. There were three boys in the doorway, two that reminded Jack of gorillas, and one that gave of the distinct impression of a ferret, or a snake.

"What?" Harry snapped aggressively.

"Manners, Potter." The ferret, Malfoy, Jack assumed, drawled, "or I'll have to give you detention." Jack gritted his teeth, automatically disliking the blond haired boy. "You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments." Jack glared at the smug, pointy chinned boy.

"Yeah, but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone." Jack and the others, except Luna, didn't bother hiding their amusement. The ferrets lip curled. His eyes landed on a smirking Jack.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Jack," he introduced himself.

"Draco Malfoy," the blond spoke. "What are you doing, hanging around with this sort," his eyes skip over the compartment. "You'll soon find out that some people are better than others."

Jack nodded "yeah," he said slowly, "you're right. See you." He smiled insincerely and moved to slam the door in Malfoy's face. "Bye." Malfoy growled, catching the door, his eyes switched from Jack to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Just remember, Potter, i'll be _**dogging**_ your footsteps from now on." Harry and Hermione stiffened, Malfoy swept away, followed by his cronies. Ron, undisturbed by whatever Malfoy had said, held out a hand.

"Chuck us another frog."

The weather remained undecided as they traveled further and farther north. Rain spattered the windows in a half-hearted way, then the sun put in a feeble appearance before clouds drifted over it once more. When darkness fell and lamps came on inside the carriages, Luna rolled up The Quibbler, put it carefully away in her bag and took to staring at everyone in the compartment instead. It was...disconcerting, and Jack was not looking forward to a train ride with her.

Eventually Hermione broke the silence. "We should change." After rummaging through the trunks, the girls left the boys to change in the compartment. When Hermione and the others returned Jack noticed that she and Ron were wearing identical badges.

Eventually the train began to slow. Jack could hear the clamor of people gathering their things and getting ready. As Ron and Hermione were supposed to supervise all this, they disappeared from the carriage again, leaving Jack and the others to look after Crookshanks and Pigwidgeon.

"I'll carry that owl, if you like," said Luna to Harry, reaching out for Pigwidgeon as Neville stowed Trevor carefully in an inside pocket, and Jack struggled to coax BT back into the hated cage. Harry mumbled a thanks and handed over the minuscule owl. The five shuffled off of the train into the cold. Not that it bothered Jack.

A brisk female voice called out "first years, First-years line up over here, please! All first-years to me!" Jack followed Harry.

Harry called over the clamor, "where's Hagrid?"

"I don't know," replied Ginny, "but we better get inside, we're blocking the door."

"Oh, yeah." Harry muttered and they hurried on. Ginny was separated from Jack and Harry by the jostling crowd. Jack could tell Harry was looking for someone, probably Ron and Hermione. The pair was shoved along with the sea of people, through the gates of Hogsmeade station.

Coaches came around, drawn by strange horselike creatures that reminded Jack painfully of Pitch's nightmares. They were some kind of a cross between a reptile and a horse, with a dragon like head and pupil-less, pale white eyes. They were emaciated, all skin, bones, and no flesh, with bat-like wings.

"Where's Pig?" Asked Ron from behind them.

"Luna has him." Jack replied.

Harry turned "Where do you reckon-"

"-Hagrid is?" Finished Ron, "Dunno. He better be okay, though." He sounded worried. A short distance away, Draco Malfoy, followed by a small gang of cronies including Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson, was pushing some timid-looking second-years out of the way so that he and his friends could get a coach to themselves. Seconds later, Hermione emerged panting from the crowd.

"Malfoy was being absolutely foul to a first-year back there. I swear I'm going to report him, he's only had his badge three minutes and he's using it to bully people worse than ever . . . where's Crookshanks?"

"Ginny's got him,' said Harry. "There she is . . ." Ginny had just emerged from the crowd, clutching a squirming Crookshanks.

"Thanks," said Hermione, relieving Ginny of the cat. "Come on, let's get a carriage together before they all fill up . . ."

"I haven't got Pig yet!" Ron said, but Hermione was already heading off towards the nearest unoccupied coach.

"Don't worry, we can track Luna down later." Jack reassured. The three of them hung back a bit.

"What do you reckon those are?" Asked Harry, pointing to the weird creatures. Ron frowned.

"What?"

"Those" Jack pointed, "the horse lizard things."

Luna materialized out of the crowd clutching Pig's cage, thankfully interrupting Ron's odd stares. "Here," she handed the excited owl back to Ron, "he's a sweet little owl, isn't he." She cooed.

"Yeah, he's alright." Ron muttered gruffly, accepting Pig's cage. "Well come on, lets get in... What were you saying guys?"

"We were saying, what are the horse things?" Jack asked as they made their way to the carriage where the other two were sitting.

"What horse things?"

"The horse things pulling the carriages!" said Harry impatiently. They were, after all, about three feet from the nearest one; it was watching them with empty white eyes. Ron, however, gave them a perplexed look.

"What are you talking about?"

" he's talking about - look!" Jack grabbed Ron's arm and wheeled him about so that he was face to face with the winged horse. Ron stared straight at it for a second, then looked back at the two of them blankly.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?"

"At the-there- between the shafts." Harry insisted. A thought occurred to Jack.

"Can't, can't you see them?" He asked . Ron looked seriously alarmed now.

"See- are you two feeling alright?" Jack and Harry looked at each other.

Jack nodded slowly, "yeah, we, we're fine." Jack saw his own bewilderment in Harry's eyes. The creature was right there, gleaming in the misty light.

"Shall we get in, then?" Ron asked uncertainly, clearly worried.

"Yeah, you.. You go ahead." Harry muttered.

"It's okay, you know." A dreamy voice spoke behind them as Ron vanished into the carriage. "You're not going mad you know, I can see them too."

"Can you?" Harry sounded desperate.

"Oh yes, I've been able to see them since my first day. they've always pulled the carriages. Don't worry, you're just as sane as I am." Jack was not altogether reassured, and he could see the same uncertainty reflected in Harry. He shrugged and headed into the coach behind Luna.


	5. The Sorting

**Yay! I wrote more. To all those who followed/faved/reviewed again, you guys are awesome. Special thanks to changeofheart505. She Reviewed EVERY chapter *hugs* seriously, thank you wonderful person. Shout out to you.**

* * *

Neither Jack nor Harry spoke of the odd creatures again, though Jack fully intended to ask the other guardians about them. "Did everyone see that Grubbly-Plank woman?" Asked Ginny. "What's she doing back here? Hagrid can't have left, can he?"

Jack interrupted her "who's Hagrid?"

"The grounds keeper and care of magical creatures instructor." Hermione explained

"I wouldn't mind if he has gone" said Luna mildly "He isn't a very good teacher, is he?"

"Yes he is!" Cried Ron, Harry and Ginny heatedly. Harry shot Hermione a pointed glare. She cleared her throat and quickly said "Oh, er... Yes... He's very good."

"Well," Luna continued undeterred "we think he's a bit of a joke in Ravenclaw" Jack winced, even he, who had never been to Hogwarts before and had never met these people before today, could tell that was NOT a smart thing to say in present company. His thought was confirmed when Ron snapped "well you've got a rubbish sense of humor then." Luna seemed unperturbed by Ron's rudeness, actually she proceeded to watch him as if he were merely an interesting television program.

Jack decided to break the tense silence. "So, what's the school like?" He asked. The others, mainly Ron Harry and Hermione, launched into a detailed description of the school. How history if magic was so boring only Hermione could stay totally awake, how potions was miserable, and Snape was evil, and how he defense against the dark arts position was jinxed. Jack was most interested in quidditch. Harry and Ron were about to go into an in depth explanation as to how the game was played when the carriages stopped.

Harry got out first, followed by Jack, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Luna. Jacks first impression of the castle was: intimidating. The turrets and towers reaching into the night sky, and squares of light shining where the windows were. It was beautiful, in a mystic, ancient way. Jack could almost here the dramatic music.

Ron jerked Jack out of his scrutiny "well, are you two coming?"

"Oh, yeah." Harry replied quickly, and they joined the crowd hurrying up the stone steps to the castle. As soon as they stepped through the archway into the torch lit hall a voice called out "Mr. Frost." The voice belonged to a severe looking witch wearing emerald green robes. Harry hissed "See you at the feast." Ron nodded and muttered "good luck." And they hurried along with the crowd. Jack was not reassured by Ron's 'good luck' comment as he walked over to the green clad woman.

She gestured for him to follow and introduced herself as professor McGonagall. After a moment she stopped in a deserted hallway. "Now, the first years will be sorted first." She explained, " and then you." She stepped through a door into a room filled with nervous looking eleven year olds The soft hum of nervous chatter died out the moment professor McGonagall, followed closely by Jack, walked in.

The children huddled together like terrified ducklings, peering at the professor with huge, frightened eyes. "Welcome to Hogwarts" said professor McGonagall. "the start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because..."

Jack pretty much tuned her out after that, he had hear about the four houses and how they worked before. He perked up a bit when she began to go more in depth, though, hoping she might explain the traits. No one had actually told them to him. He had learned that Slytherin was pretty much considered evil, that Ravenclaw was smart (after meeting Luna he worried maybe he heard that wrong), Gryffindor was brave and by far the best house (that was Ron, met by an eye roll from Hermione, though no contradiction, and grumbling from Luna), and the most he could get about Hufflepuff was some muttering about 'Cedric Diggory' and pained looks from Harry.

No such luck unfortunately. She explained about the house points, and that was kind of it, before saying she would return shortly and instructing Jack to stay there. Jack leaned casually against the wall, fingering his miniature staff. North had strung it on a necklace, though he had no idea how, so Jack wouldn't lose it. Jack had been indignant at that comment, but was glad as, though, _no he would not lose it, jeeze, North_, it would make keeping track of it a bit easier.

The nervous kids kept glancing at him and muttering nervously under their breaths. A few were trying to make themselves look presentable for the ceremony, though Jack didn't see the point. Seriously, they just sailed across a lake after hours on a train, no one would care. Well maybe Malfoy, but he was a git.

A few minutes later professor McGonagall swept in and instructed them to follow her. She led them through a pair of large doors into a huge room. Jack had to admit, it was impressive. Four huge tables sat in the room, two towards the right, two towards the left, leaving a large walkway up the middle. One was decorated with red and gold, another with blue and bronze, one with yellow and black, and the last with green and silver. Gruffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Candles floated in midair and the tables were decorated with golden plates and goblets.

The ceiling was huge and vaulted, it almost looked like there was no ceiling at all, only the night sky above them. Seriously, the ceiling looked like the sky. Jack assumed it was some kind of spell, and it was pretty cool. The head table sat at the front of the room with the teachers looking out over the students.

Jack recognized Dumbledore in the middle seat. One teacher, Snape, he guessed, based off Harry and Ron's description (Jack's particular favorite on how to recognize him and 'run for it, no seriously you should run' was look for 'the creepy git with the big, weird nose') reminded him a little too much of Pitch. But it was a flash of horrendous pink that caught his eye.

The woman was short and squat. Jack got the distinct impression of a ugly pink toad. She had a broad flabby face, very little neck, and a wide, slack mouth and large bulging eyes. She wore a horrid pink cardigan, and a small bow was perched on her short curly hair. Jack immediately knew this was someone he would not like.

Jack turned his attention back to the Sorting. Professor McGonagall placed a stool down in the front. On the stool sat a hat. A very old hat. It was heavily patched and darned, a wide tear at it's brim. The hall fell silent and, to Jack's immense surprise, began to sing.

In times of old, when I was new,

And Hogwarts barely started,

The founders of our noble school

Thought never to be parted.

United by a common goal,

They had the selfsame yearning

To make the world's best magic school

And pass along their learning.

"Together we will build and teach"

The four good friends decided.

And never did they dream that they

Might some day be divided.

For were there such friends anywhere

As Slytherin and Gryffindor?

Unless it was the second pair

Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw,

So how could it have gone so wrong?

How could such friendships fail?

Why, I was there, so I can tell

The whole sad, sorry tale.

Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those Whose

ancestry's purest."

Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those

whose Intelligence is surest."

Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those

With brave deeds to their name."

Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot

And treat them just the same."

These differences caused little strife

When first they came to light.

For each of the four founders had

A house in which they might

Take only those they wanted, so,

For instance, Slytherin

Took only pure-blood wizards

Of great cunning just like him.

And only those of sharpest mind

Were taught by Ravenclaw

While the bravest and the boldest

Went to daring Gryffindor.

Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest

and taught them all she knew,

Thus, the houses and their founders

Maintained friendships firm and true.

So Hogwarts worked in harmony

for several happy years,

but then discord crept among us

feeding on our faults and fears.

The Houses that, like pillars four

had once held up our school

now turned upon each other and

divided, sought to rule.

And for a while it seemed the school

must meet an early end.

what with dueling and with fighting

and the clash of friend on friend. And at last there came a morning

when old Slytherin departed

and though the fighting then died out

he left us quite downhearted.

And never since the founders four

were whittled down to three

have the Houses been united

as they once were meant to be.

And now the Sorting Hat is here

and you all know the score:

I sort you into Houses because that is what I'm for.

But this year I'll go further,

listen closely to my song:

though condemned I am to split you

still I worry that it's wrong,

Though I must fulfill my duty

and must quarter every year

still I wonder whether sorting

may not bring the end I fear.

Oh, know the perils, read the signs,

the warning history shows,

for our Hogwarts is in danger

from external, deadly foes

And we must unite inside her

or we'll crumble from within

I have told you, I have warned you...

let the Sorting now begin.

And on that cheerful note, the hat fell silent. A round of applause began, interspersed by muttering and whispers. Jack noticed Harry, Ron, Hermione and a ghost he couldn't quite see, as he was leaning through Neville, muttering. Professer McGonagall cut off the whispers by calling the first name. "Abercrombie,Euan." The terrified boy stumbled up to the stool and put the hat on. It was silent for a moment, before opening the wide brim and shouting "GRYFIFFINDOR!" the scarlet and gold table burst into cheers. And so it went.

The name would be called, the student would go up and put the hat on. Sometimes the hat took it's time, but sometimes like with "Bartholemew, Cynthia." it barely brushed their heads before screaming a house. The table would clap and cheer, seeming as though they were trying to outdo the others with there exuberant welcomes. Finally, with one "Zellar,Rose" the first years were sorted.

McGonagall stepped forward again, "this year we would like you to welcome a new student, who will be going into fifth year.", Murmurers broke out, not malicious, at least mostly, just curious. "Frost, Jack" she announced. Jack sauntered forward, turning on his most charming grin, the same one that could send an entire squadron of Tooth's helpers into a dead faint. He heard a collective sigh from nearly half the school. He placed the hat on his head.

A voice murmured in his head. **Ah, interesting, Jack Frost, the Guardian of Fun. Hmmmm, loyal, yes, once your trust is earned. But 300 years alone has left you slightly suspicious and jaded.** Okay, maybe, yeah. **So, not Hufflepuff. Smart yes, very smart, more than you are given credit for. Talented too. But not really one for study and learning.** _Yeah_, Jack thought, _snowball fights are more my speed_. **So, not Ravenclaw. Ambitious, sneaky, yes. Maybe Slytherin, But also brave. Very brave. It's close, but you are not deceitful, though you may lie, you died for your younger sister. **Jack remained mentally silent as the hat muttered** So, better be... **

"GRYFFINDOR!"

* * *

**So, yeah. I know people like to put Jack in Sytherin, and if the movie didn't happen and he didn't die for his sister, I could see it. But he did. Also I kinda needed him do be Griffindor. Like I said before updates will probably slow down as I have to go back to school, *sarcasm* Joy. they may be shorter as well. Meh. 'till next time.**


	6. Gryffindor

**Holy Schnitzel guys, TWELVE follows! thank you wonderful people! So I updated faster than I thought I would *shrugs* probably won't keep happening, seeing as today was day 1 of 4th quarter so I didn't have HW, YAY! but that probably won't keep happening. Enjoy! **

* * *

Jack pulled the hat off his head, quite glad to be rid of it. He walked over to the red and gold table, applause ringing in his ears. He noticed Ginny, Neville, Harry, Ron, and Hermione cheering particularly enthusiastically.

"Hermione, budge up." Ron instructed. Jack smiled and slid onto the bench beside her. At the head table, Dumbledore stood up.

"To our newcomers," he announced, beaming,"welcome! To our old hands- welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but now is not it. Tuck in." With that the gleaming plates filled with food.

Jack grinned, ok, that was cool. People cheered and laughed, helping themselves to the spectacular array of food. Tables groaned with the weight of meats, pies, vegetables, bread, sauces and flagons of- pumpkin juice?

"Excellent" cried Ron, seizing the nearest plate of chops and piling them onto his plate, watched wistfully by the ghost. "What were you saying, before the sorting?" Hermione asked him. "Oh, yes" the ghost turned back to Hermione. Jacks stomach dropped when he recognized sir Nicholas. He silently prayed to MiM that he wouldn't realize who Jack was.

Jack first met Sir Nick about 200 years ago. He had stumbled across the headless hunt whilst Nick was trying to join. They had spoken, but not much, as Nicholas was once again denied, and he was kind of boring anyway.

The ghost frowned at Jack for a moment before continuing to address Hermione. "Yes, I have heard the hat give several warnings before, and always, of course, it's advice is the same: stand together, be strong from within."

"Ow kunnit nofe skuzin dngr ifzat" mumbled Ron through a massive mouthful of food. His mouth was so full Jack thought it was quite an achievement to make any sound at all.

"I beg your pardon?" Asked Sir Nicholas politely, while Hermione looked revolted. Jack, who was used to understanding people with full mouths, after all he spent a lot of time around North and cookies, translated. "How can it know if the school's in danger if its a hat?"

Ron nodded, the other two looked vaguely impressed. Jack shrugged "My uncle likes cookies." He explained. That earned him laughs from Harry, and Ron (who had managed to swallow without too much difficulty) and a smile from Hermione.

"Oh. I have no idea," said Nearly Headless Nick. "Of course, it lives in Dumbledore's office, so I daresay it picks up things here and there." "And it wants all the houses to be friends?" Harry and Jack glanced at Malfoy and the Slytherins together, "Fat Chance." Harry grumbled

"Well now, you shouldn't take that attitude," said Nick reprovingly. "Peaceful cooperation, that's the key. We ghosts, though we belong in separate Houses, maintain links if friendship. In spite of the competitiveness between Gryffindor and Slytherin, I would never dream of seeking an argument with the Bloody Baron." "Only because you're terrified of him" said Ron. Nearly Headless Nick looked highly affronted. "Terrified? I hope I, Sir Nicholas de Misy-Porpington, have never been guilty of cowardice in my life! The noble blood that runs through my veins-"

"What blood?" Asked Ron. "Surely you haven't still got-?"

"It is a figure of speech!" Barked Nearly Headless Nick, now so annoyed his head was trembling ominously on his partially severed neck. "I assume I am still allowed to enjoy the use of whichever words I like, even if the pleasure of eating a drinking-" Jack winced, at least he still ate and drank, "- are denied to me! But am quite used to students poking fun at my death,-" another wince "- I assure you!"

"Nick, he wasn't really laughing at you!" Said Hermione, throwing a furious glare at Ron. Unfortunately, Ron's mouth was one again filled to bursting and all he could manage was "node iddum eentup sechew."which Nick didn't seem to think constituted an adequate apology. Rising into theair he straightened his feathered hat and flew to the other end of the table, coming to rest between two boys, who looked like brothers.

"well done Ron." snapped Hermione.

"what?" said Ron indignantly, having managed, finally, to swallow his food. "I'm not allowed to ask a simple question?"

"Oh, forget it," Hermione said irritably. The two settled into a huffy silence.

"Do they do this often?" Jack asked, earning two glares and a laugh.

"yeah, every once in a few days." Harry joked lightly.

The quartet continued to eat, Hermione and Ron steadfastly ignoring each other, Harry and Jack chatting, both too used to bickering to bother trying to reconcile them.

When all the students had finished eating and the noise level slowly began to creep upward again, Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall immediately fell silent.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," said Dumbledore. "First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students - and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too." Jack noticed Harry, Ron and Hermione exchange smirks.

"Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr Filch's office door.

"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was a round of polite but fairly unenthusiastic applause, during which Jack saw Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged slightly panicked looks.

Dumbledore continued, 'Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the - '

He broke off, looking enquiringly at Professor Umbridge. As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge cleared her throat, "Hem, hem," and it became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech.

Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. Other members of staff were not as adept at hiding their surprise. One teacher's eyebrows had disappeared into her flyaway hair and Professor McGonagall's mouth was impressively thin. It appeared no new teacher had ever interrupted Dumbledore before. Many of the students were smirking; this woman obviously did not know how things were done at Hogwarts.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered, "for those kind words of welcome."

Her voice was high-pitched, breathy and little-girlish. Jack felt a powerful rush of dislike that he could not explain to himself; all he knew was that he loathed everything about her, from her stupid voice to her fluffy pink cardigan. She gave another little throat-clearing cough ('hem, hem') and continued.

"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. "And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!"

Jack glanced around. None of the faces he could see looked happy. On the contrary, they all looked rather taken-aback at being addressed as though they were five years old.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"

Students exchanged looks at this; some of them were barely concealing grins.

"I'll be her friend as long as I don't have to borrow that cardigan," one girl whispered to another, and both of them lapsed into silent giggles.

Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again ('hem, hem'), but when she continued, some of the breathiness had vanished from her voice. She sounded much more businesslike and now her words had a dull learned-by-heart sound to them.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them for ever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."

Professor Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back to her. Professor McGonagall's dark eyebrows had contracted so that she looked positively hawklike, and Jack distinctly saw her exchange a significant glance with the woman who had the runaway eyebrows as Umbridge gave another little 'hem, hem' and went on with her speech.

"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation . . ."

The quiet that had filled the Hall when Dumbledore was speaking was breaking up as students put t heir heads together, whispering and giggling. Over on the Ravenclaw table Cho was chatting animatedly with her friends. A few seats along from Cho, Luna Lovegood had got out The Quibbler again. Meanwhile, at the Hufflepuff table one boy, one of the few still staring at Professor Umbridge, was was glassy-eyed and Jack was sure he was only pretending to listen in an attempt to live up to the new badge, similar to Ron and Hermione's, but for Hufflepuff, gleaming on his chest.

Professor Umbridge did not seem to notice the restlessness of her audience. Jack had the impression that a full-scale riot could have broken out under her nose and she would have plowed on with her speech. The teachers, however, were still listening very attentively, and Hermione seemed to be drinking in every word Umbridge spoke, though, judging by her expression, they were not at all to her taste. Jack was paying attention too, not because he really cared what she said, but because his instincts screamed at him that she was very bad news, and he very much agreed with Hermione.

". . . because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognised as errors of judgement. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."

She sat down. Dumbledore clapped. The staff followed his lead, though Jack noticed that several of them brought their hands together only once or twice before stopping. A few students joined in, but most had been taken unawares by the end of the speech, not having listened to more than a few words of it, and before they could start applauding properly, Dumbledore had stood up again.

"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating," he said, bowing to her. 'Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held . . ."

"Yes, it certainly was illuminating," said Hermione in a low voice.

"You're not telling me you enjoyed it?" Ron said quietly, turning a glazed face towards Hermione. "That was about the dullest speech I've ever heard, and I grew up with Percy."

"I said illuminating, not enjoyable," said Hermione. "It explained a lot."

"Did it?" said Harry in surprise. "Sounded like a load of waffle to me."

"There was some important stuff hidden in the waffle," said Jack grimly.

"was there?" said Ron blankly.

"How about: "progress for progress's sake must be discouraged"?" How about: "pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited"? Hermione put in.

"What does that mean?" Ron asked.

There was a great clattering and banging all around them; Dumbledore had obviously just dismissed the school, because everyone was standing up ready to leave the Hall. Hermione jumped up, looking flustered.

"Ron, we're supposed to show the first-years where to go!"

"Oh yeah," said Ron, who had obviously forgotten. "Hey - hey, you lot! Midgets!"

Jack snickered.

"Ron!"

"Well, they are, they're tiny . . ."

"I know, but you can't call them midgets! - First-years!" Hermione called commandingly along the table. "This way, please!"

A group of new students walked shyly up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, all of them trying hard not to lead the group. Jack watched, amused. He noticed a shocked, sad look on Harry's face.

"see you later." Harry muttered to Ron and Hermione, and made his way out of the great hall. Jack followed quickly. He noticed people pointing at, staring at, and whispering about felt a wave of sympathy for the boy. Watching as he wove through the throngs of people, eyes fixed ahead, trying desperately to ignore it. It must have been hard, to have known what you saw was true, to have watched a friend die, and been unable to prove it, to get justice, even though it was true. He remembered what it a had felt like last Easter, when Pitch tricked him and the others didn't listen. The feeling had been awful. Jack didn't blame them for it, they were angry and upset, especially Bunny. It still hurt though.

Jack followed Harry to a painting of a fat lady, the entrance to the common room he assumed. On the way up he had noticed the paintings moving, which was pretty cool, this one was no exception."Er..." Harry said glumly, staring up at the painting. She smoothed the folds of her pink satin dress.

"No password, no entrance" She said loftily.

"Guys, I know it!" Someone panted from behind them. Jack turned to see Neville, "Guess what it is? I'm actually going to remember it for once-" He waved the stunted cactus from the train. "_Mimbulus Mimbeltonia!_"

"Correct," said the woman, and the painting swung open toward them like a door, revealing a circular hole in the wall behind, through which the three now climbed.

The Gryffindor common room looked welcoming, a cozy circular tower full of dilapidated, squashy arm chairs and rickety old tables. A fire was crackling merrily in the grate and a few people were warming their hands before going up to bed. On the other side of the room two red headed boys- more Weasleys, Jack guessed- were pinning something to a notice board. Harry waved to them, before setting off towards the dorms, Jack following once again with Neville.

Two boys were already there, covering the walls with pictures and posters. They had been talking when Harry pushed the door open, but stopped when the trio walked in, leading Jack to believe they had been discussing Harry. Harry muttered a tired greeting, heading toward his bed. Jack scanned for his stuff, a loud tweet sounding from the bed by the window, one over from Harry's. Jack headed over to his bed, letting out BT, not really paying the other boys conversation until he heard shouting.

"Don't you have a go at my mother," one of the boys snapped.

"I'll have a go at anyone who calls me a liar," said Harry.

"Don't talk to me like that!"

"I'll talk to you how I want," said Harry, his temper clearly rising as he snatched his wand back from his bedside table. As soon as Jack saw that he decided he should step in, after all, he was supposed to protect Harry, and that included from detention.

"whoa, whoa, back up." Jack stepped between the angry boys, hands up. "what happened?"

"Harry insulted my mother!" The boy snarled.

"Seamus called me a liar." Harry shot back.

Seamus opened his mouth to retort but Jack spoke first

"If Seamus called you a liar, why did you attack his mother?"

"Because _I _didn't say I believed the _prophet_, I said my _mother_ did."

"and do you? believe the _Prophet_, 'cause I certainly don't." Jack asked.

Seamus looked uncomfortable, "I don't know, I mean you-know-who coming back? it's just, kinda far fetched."

Harry looked calmer now, at least, he had put his wand down, but still touchy. "it's true," he insisted.

Seamus shook his head, "I don't..." he faltered

At that moment Ron made his presence known, "you don't what?"

Everyone's eyes jerked to Ron, "Believe Harry? Why not." He sounded angry. Jack surreptitiously backed away. He knew Ron would defend his friend no matter what.

"My mother says it's rubbish."

"and you believe everything your mother tells you?" snapped Harry. Jack wisely decided to stay out of it this time. Seamus bristled.

"Leave my mother out of this!"

Harry looked furious "The _Daily Prophet _is a liar!"

"No, you are!" Jack winced at Seamus's words. Not smart, after all, Harry _was_ telling the truth, his best friend _was _a prefect, and he_ was _standing right there.

"Enough!" Ron shouted. He glared at Seamus "Unless you want detention, watch your mouth."

Seamus glared, then, with a sound of disgust, vaulted into bed, yanking the curtain closed so hard it tore, and fell to the ground in a dusty heap.

"Anyone else's parents got a problem with Harry?" Ron asked aggressively.

"My parents are Muggles, mate," said Dean, shrugging. "They don't know nothing about no deaths at Hogwarts, because I'm not stupid enough to tell them."

"You don't know my mother, she'd weasel anything out of anyone!" Seamus snapped at him. "Anyway, your parents don't get the Daily Prophet. They don't know our Headmaster's been sacked from the Wizengamot and the International Confederation of Wizards because he's losing his marbles - "

"My gran says that stuff's rubbish," piped up Neville. "She says it's the Daily Prophet that's going downhill, not Dumbledore. She's cancelled our subscription. We believe Harry," said Neville simply. He climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin, looking owlishly over them at Seamus. "My grans always said You-Know-Who would come back one day. She says if Dumbledore says he's back, he's back."

"I believe Harry." Jack repeated confidently

No one else said anything as the boys got ready for bed. As Jack lay waiting for sleep, Baby Tooth curled up in his hair, he decided this was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

* * *

**So, I know Easter is in April, and I said Three months, whoops, lets all just pretend that I was accurate, *sheepish chuckle.* **

**oh, well. 'till next time!**


	7. Potions

***in an office with an empty desk, pre-recorded voice*I regret to inform you that the author of this story has fainted from sheer delight upon seeing the responses to the story. Over 1,000 views, 15 follows, 6 favorites and ten reviews. *a hand appears weakly from below desk. thumbs up. It then falls limply to the floor again.***

* * *

Seamus dressed at top speed next morning and left the dormitory before Harry had even put on his socks. "Does he think he'll turn into a nutter if he stays in a room with me too long?" asked Harry loudly as the hem of Seamus's robes whipped out of sight. Jack frowned sympathetically

"Don't worry about it, Harry," said the other boy, Dean, hoisting his schoolbag on to his shoulder, "he's just . . ." But apparently he was unable to say exactly what Seamus was, and after a slightly awkward pause followed him out of the room. Neville, Jack and Ron all gave Harry an it's-his-problem-not-yours look, but Harry didn't seem consoled. Jack felt bad for him.

"What's the matter"' asked Hermione five minutes later, catching up with Harry, Jack and Ron halfway across the common room as they all headed towards breakfast. "You look absolutely - Oh for heavens sake." She was staring at the common-room noticeboard, where a large new sign had been put up. _**GALLONS OF GALLEONS! Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings? Like to earn a little extra gold? Contact Fred and George Weasley, Gryffindor common room, for simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs. (We regret that all work is undertaken at applicant's own risk.)**_

"They are the limit," said Hermione grimly, taking down the sign, which the boys, apparently Fred and George, had pinned up over a poster giving the date of the first Hogsmeade weekend, which was to be in October. "We'll have to talk to them, Ron." Ron looked positively alarmed. "Why?"

"Because we're prefects!" said Hermione, as they climbed out through the portrait hole. "It's up to us to stop this kind of thing!" Ron said nothing; Jack could tell from his glum expression that the prospect of stopping Fred and George doing exactly what they liked was not one he found inviting. "Anyway, what's up, Harry?" Hermione continued, as they walked down a flight of stairs lined with portraits of old witches and wizards, all of whom ignored them, being engrossed in their own conversation. "You look really angry about something."

"Seamus thinks Harry's lying about You-Know-Who," said Jack succinctly, when Harry did not respond. Hermione, who Jack had expected to react angrily on Harry's behalf, sighed. "Yes, Lavender thinks so too," she said gloomily.

"Been having a nice little chat with her about whether or not I'm a lying, attention-seeking prat, have you?'" Harry said loudly. Jack found that a bit of an over reaction. "No," said Hermione calmly. " I told her to keep her big fat mouth shut about you, actually. And it would be quite nice if you stopped jumping down our throats, Harry, because in case you haven't noticed, Ron and I are on your side."

"And so am I." Jack added with a smile. There was a short pause. "Sorry,"said Harry in a low voice. "That's quite all right," said Hermione with dignity. Then she shook her head. "Don't you remember what Dumbledore said at the last end-of-term feast?" Harry, Jack and Ron all looked at her blankly "it's my first year." Jack reminded her. Hermione sighed again. " It was About You-Know-Who. He said his 'gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust - "

"How do you remember stuff like that?" asked Ron, looking at her in admiration. " I listen, Ron," said Hermione, with a touch of asperity. Jack had to stifle a laugh. "So do I, but I still couldn't tell you exactly what - "

"The point," Hermione pressed on loudly, " is that this sort of thing is exactly what Dumbledore was talking about. You-Know-Who's only been back two months and we've already started fighting among ourselves. And the Sorting Hat's warning was the same: stand together, be united - "

"And Harry got it right last night," retorted Ron. "If that means we're supposed to get matey with the Slytherins - fat chance."

"Well, I think it's a pity we're not trying for a bit of inter-house unity," said Hermione crossly. "I agree with Hermione actually, didn't the sorting hat say cunning and ambitious? That isn't evil." Jack pointed out. Ron snorted, "you wait." He muttered.

They had reached the foot of the marble staircase. A line of fourth-year Ravenclaws was crossing the Entrance Hall; they caught sight of Harry and hurried to form a tighter group, as though frightened he might attack stragglers. "Yeah, we really ought to be trying to make friends with people like that," said Harry sarcastically. They followed the Ravenclaws into the Great Hall, three of them looking instinctively at the staff table as they entered. Professor Grubbly-Plank was chatting to Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy teacher, (Jack had asked Hermione who was who) and Hagrid (who the three had described in great, enthusiastic detail, he was clearly a favorite) was once again absent. The enchanted ceiling above them was a miserable rain-cloud grey.

"Dumbledore didn't even mention how long that Grubbly-Plank woman's staying," Harry said, as they made their way across to the Gryffindor table. "Maybe . . ."said Hermione thoughtfully. 'What?' said the three boys together. "Well . . . maybe he didn't want to draw attention to Hagrid not being here."

"What d'you mean, draw attention to it?" said Ron, half-laughing. "How could we not notice?" Before Hermione could answer, a tall black girl with long braided hair had marched up to Harry. "Hi, Angelina." he greeted

"Hi," she said briskly, "good summer?" And without waiting for an answer, "Listen, I've been made Gryffindor Quidditch Captain." ("who is that? Hissed Jack. "Angelina Johnson, chaser, and now, apparently, quidditch captain." Hermione whispered back) "Nice one," said Harry, grinning at her. "Yeah, well, we need a new Keeper now Oliver's left, and a new Chaser. Tryouts are on Friday at five o'clock and I want the whole team there, all right? Then we can see how the new person'll fit in." Jack perked up, he had been interested in trying his hand, er, broom? At quidditch"OK," said Harry. Angelina smiled at him and departed.

"I'd forgotten Wood had left," said Hermione vaguely as she sat down beside Ron and pulled a plate of toast towards her. "I suppose that will make quite a difference to the team?"

" I s'pose," said Harry, taking the bench opposite. "He was a good Keeper . . ."

"Still, it won't hurt to have some new blood, will it?" said Ron.

"You never finished your explanation of the rules." Jack prompted. Harry and Ron grinned, Hermione groaned.

Harry and Ron were explaining the bludgers (well, recounting when an enchanted one tried to kill Harry second year. Protecting him was seeming harder and harder every second.) when the mail came in. With a whoosh and a clatter, hundreds of owls came soaring in through the upper windows. They descended all over the Hall, bringing letters and packages to their owners and showering the breakfasters with droplets of water; it was clearly raining hard outside. Baby tooth (who had been absent that morning) zoomed over with a too large letter in her hands, chased by a large barn owl.

"Hey!" Jack swatted at the bird as BT hid in his robes. The tawny creature wheeled and landed in front of Hermione, "Is Baby Tooth okay?" she asked, taking a copy of the _daily prophet_ from the birds beak. Said fairy peaked out and chirped conformation, handing Jack the letter, before hiding again. "Yeah," Jack took the letter, "she's fine." Hermione looked relieved as she payed the owl.

" What are you still getting that for?" said Harry irritably, "I'm not bothering . . . load of rubbish."

"It's best to know what the enemy is saying," said Hermione darkly, "Foreboding much?" Jack commented. Hermione unfurled the newspaper and disappeared behind it, not emerging until Harry, Jack, and Ron had finished. Jack had decided to read his letter in private. "Nothing," she said simply, rolling up the newspaper and laying it down by her plate. "Nothing about you or Dumbledore or anything."

Professor McGonagall was now moving along the table handing out timetables. "Look at today!" groaned Ron. "History of Magic, double Potions, Divination and double Defence Against the Dark Arts . . . Binns, Snape, Trelawney and that Umbridge woman all in one day! I wish Fred and George'd hurry up and get those Skiving Snackboxes sorted . . ." Jack opened his mouth to comment, but the twins beat him to it.

"Do mine ears deceive me?' said one, arriving with the other and squeezing on to the bench beside Harry. "Hogwarts prefects surely don't wish to skive off lessons?"

"Look what we've got today," said Ron grumpily, shoving his timetable under his brothers nose. "That's the worst Monday I've ever seen."

"Fair point, little bro,' said the twin, scanning the column. 'You can have a bit of Nosebleed Nougat cheap if you like."

"Why's it cheap?" said Ron suspiciously. "Because you'll keep bleeding till you shrivel up, we haven't got an antidote yet," said The other twin, helping himself to a kipper.

"Sounds fun." Said Jack sarcastically. The twins zeroed in on him. "Your the new kid, Jack. I'm Fred"

"And I'm George."

"And speaking of your Skiving Snackboxes," interrupted Hermione, eyeing Fred and George beadily, "you can't advertise for testers on the Gryffindor noticeboard."

"Says who?' said George, looking astonished. "Says me," said Hermione. "And Ron."

"Leave me out of it," said Ron hastily. Jack once again stifled a laugh. Hermione glared at them. Fred and George sniggered. "You'll be singing a different tune soon enough, Hermione," said Fred, thickly buttering a crumpet. "You're starting your fifth year, you'll be begging us for a Snackbox before long."

"And why would starting fifth year mean I want a Skiving Snackbox?" asked Hermione. "Fifth year's OWL year," said George."

"So?"

"So you've got your exams coming up, haven't you? They'll be keeping your noses so hard to that grindstone they'll be rubbed raw," said Fred with satisfaction. "Half our year had minor breakdowns coming up to OWLs," said George happily."Tears and tantrums . . . Patricia Stimpson kept coming over faint . . ."

"Kenneth Towler came out in boils, d'you remember?" said Fred remmiscently. "That's 'cause you put Bulbadox powder in his pajamas," said George. "Oh yeah," said Fred, grinning. ''I'd forgotten . . . hard to keep track sometimes, isn't it?"

"Anyway, it's a nightmare of a year, the fifth," said George. "If you care about exam results, anyway. Fred and I managed to keep our peckers up somehow."

"Oh, joy, my very first year." Jack muttered. The twins sent him an evil grin.

"Yeah . . . you got, what was it, three OWLs each?" said Ron, having missed Jacks comment. "Yep," said Fred unconcernedly. "But we feel our futures lie outside the world of academic achievement."

"We seriously debated whether we were going to bother coming back for our seventh year," said George brightly, "now that we've got-" He broke off at a warning look from Harry, which peaked Jacks interest. "- now that we've got our OWLs," George said hastily. " I mean, do we really need NEWTs? But we didn't think Mum could take us leaving school early not on top of Percy turning out to be the world's biggest prat."

" We're not going to waste our last year here, though," said Fred, looking affectionately around at the Great Hall. "We're going to use it to do a bit of market research, find out exactly what the average Hogwarts student requires from a joke shop, carefully evaluate the results of our research, then produce products to fit the demand."

"But where are you going to get the gold to start a joke shop?" Hermione asked skeptically. "You're going to need all the ingredients and materials - and premises too, I suppose . . ." Harry did not look at the twins. He dropped his fork and dived down to retrieve it. Jack frowned. "Ask us no questions and we'll tell you no lies, Hermione. C'mon, George, if we get there early we might be able to sell a few Extendable Ears before Herbology." Harry emerged from under the table to see Fred and George walking away, each carrying a stack of toast.

"What did that mean?" said Hermione, looking from between Harry, Jack, and Ron " 'Ask us no questions . . .' Does that mean they've already got some gold to start a joke shop?"

"You know, I've been wondering about that," said Ron, his brow furrowed. "They bought me a new set of dress robes this summer and I couldn't understand where they got the Galleons . . ." Harry conveniently changed the subject. "D'you reckon it's true this year's going to be really tough? Because of the exams?"

"Oh, yeah," said Ron. "Bound to be, isn't it? OWLs are really important, affect the jobs you can apply for and everything. We get career advice, too, later this year, Bill told me. So you can choose what NEWTs you want to do next year."

"D'you know what you want to do after school?" Harry asked the other three, as they left the Great Hall shortly afterwards and set off towards their History of Magic classroom. "Not really," said Ron slowly. "Except . . . well . . ." He looked slightly sheepish. "What?" Harry urged him.

"Well, it'd be cool to be an Auror," said Ron in an off-hand voice.

"Yeah, it would," said Harry fervently.

"A what?" Asked Jack.

"Dark wizard catcher. But they're, like, the elite," said Ron. "You've got to be really good. What about you, Hermione?"

"I don't know," she said. "I think I'd like to do something really worthwhile."

"An Aurors worthwhile!" said Harry.

"Yes, it is, but it's not the only worthwhile thing," said Hermione thoughtfully, "I mean, if I could take SPEW further . . ." Jack opened his mouth to ask what SPEW was, put Harry pointedly asked, "what about you Jack?" Giving him a warning stare.

that was a hard question, best to gave a safe answer. "I dunno." He replied.

History of Magic was by common consent the most boring subject ever devised by wizardkind. Professor Binns, their ghost teacher, had a wheezy, droning voice that was almost guaranteed to cause severe drowsiness within ten minutes, five in warm weather. Or, so Jack had been told.

He never varied the form of their lessons, but lectured them without pausing while they took notes, or rather, gazed sleepily into space. Harry and Ron said they had so far managed to scrape passes in this subject only by copying Hermione's notes before exams; she alone seemed able to resist the soporific power of Binns's voice.

Today, they suffered an hour and a half's droning on the subject of giant wars. Jack heard just enough within the first ten minutes to appreciate dimly that in another teacher's hands this subject might have been mildly interesting, but then his brain disengaged, and he spent the remaining hour and twenty minutes playing hangman on a corner of his parchment with Ron and Harry, while Hermione shot them filthy looks out of the corner of her eye.

"How would it be," she asked them coldly, as they left the classroom for break (Binns drifting away through the blackboard), "if I refused to lend you my notes this year?"

"We'd fail our OWL," said Ron. "If you want that on your conscience, Hermione . . ."

"Well, you'd deserve it," she snapped. "You don't even try to listen to him, do you?"

"We do try," said Ron. "We just haven't got your brains or your memory or your concentration - you're just cleverer than we are - is it nice to rub it in?"

"Oh, don't give me that rubbish," said Hermione, but she looked slightly mollified as she led the way out into the damp courtyard.

A fine misty drizzle was falling, so that the people standing in huddles around the edges of the yard looked blurred at the edges. Jack, Harry, Ron and Hermione chose a secluded corner under a heavily dripping balcony, turning up the collars of their robes against the chilly September air and talking about what Snape was likely to set them in the first lesson of the year. They had got as far as agreeing that it was likely to be something extremely difficult, just to catch them off guard after a two-month holiday, when someone walked around the corner towards them.

"Hello, Harry!" It was Cho and, what was more, she was on her own. "Hi," said Harry, going slightly pink. At least he wasn't covered in Stinksap this time. Cho seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "You got that stuff off, then?"

"Yeah," said Harry, trying to grin as though the memory of their last meeting was funny as opposed to mortifying. "So, did you . . . er . . . have a good summer?"

Smooth move, Harry. Jack thought. He knew from Ron and Hermione that Cho's boyfriend had been Cedric. Something seemed to tauten in her face, but she said, "Oh, it was all right, you know . . ."

"Is that a Tornados badge?' Ron demanded suddenly, pointing to the front of Cho's robes, where a sky-blue badge emblazoned with a double gold 'T' was pinned. "You don't support them, do you?"

"Yeah, I do." said Cho.

"Have you always supported them, or just since they started winning the league?"' said Ron, in what Jack considered an unnecessarily accusatory tone of voice.

"I've supported them since I was six," said Cho coolly. "Anyway . . . see you, Harry." She walked away. Hermione waited until Cho was halfway across the courtyard before rounding on Ron. "You are so tactless!"

"What? I only asked her if - "

"Couldn't you tell she wanted to talk to Harry on her own?"

"So? She could've done, I wasn't stopping - "

"Ron?" Jack asked.

"What?"

"Hermione's got a point. She definitely wanted to talk to Harry. _Alone_." He added pointedly. He saw Harry blush and fought a smile, Hermione nodded. "See! even Jack could see it."

"Should I be offended?" Jack muttered to Harry. "And Why on earth were you attacking her about her Quidditch team?"

"Attacking? I wasn't attacking her, I was only - "

"Who cares if she supports the Tornados?"

"Oh, come on, half the people you see wearing those badges only bought them last season - "

"But what does it matter?"

"It means they're not real fans, they're just jumping on the bandwagon - "

"That's the bell," said Harry dully, because Ron and Hermione were bickering too loudly to hear it. They did not stop arguing all the way down to Snapes dungeon.

"You'll be lucky to get a two minute conversation with Cho without wanting to flee the country between Ron and Neville." Jack joked

"Not helping." Harry muttered.

"Cheer up, at least she wants to talk to you." Jack pointed out, as they joined the queue lining up outside Snape's classroom door. the ominous sound of Snape's dungeon door creaking open filled the Hall. He and Harry filed into the classroom behind Ron and Hermione and followed them to the trio's usual table at the back, where Harry sat down between Ron and Hermione and and Jack on Hermione's other side, the two ignored the huffy, irritable noises now issuing from both of them.

"Settle down," said Snape coldly, shutting the door behind him. There was no real need for the call to order; the moment the class had heard the door close, quiet had fallen and all fidgeting stopped. Snape's mere presence was enough to ensure a class's silence. "Before we begin today's lesson," said Snape, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all, "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an "Acceptable" in your OWL, or suffer my . . . displeasure." His gaze lingered this time on Neville, who gulped. "After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape went on. "I take only the very best into my NEWT Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye." His eyes rested on Harry and his lip curled. Harry glared back. From what the trio had told Jack, maybe leaving would be a good thing.

"However, we have far to go before that happy moment of farewell," said Snape softly, "so, whether or not you are intending to attempt NEWT, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high pass level I have come to expect from my OWL students."

"Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing." On Jack's right, Hermione sat up a little straighter, her expression one of utmost attention.

"The ingredients and method - " Snape flicked his wand "- are on the blackboard - (they appeared there) "- you will find everything you need - " he flicked his wand again "- in the store cupboard - "(the door of the said cupboard sprang open) " - you have an hour and a half . . . start."

Just as the quartet had predicted, Snape could hardly have set them a more difficult, fiddly potion. The ingredients had to be added to the cauldron in precisely the right order and quantities; the mixture had to be stirred exactly the right number of times, firstly in clockwise, then in anti-clockwise directions; the heat of the flames on which it was simmering had to be lowered to exactly the right level for a specific number of minutes before the final ingredient was added.

"A light silver vapour should now be rising from your potion," called Snape, with ten minutes left to go. Jack looked around the room, his own potion giving if silvery-grey mist, hopefully that would do. Ron's potion was spitting green sparks. Harry's issued huge amounts of dark grey steam, Seamus was feverishly prodding the flames at the base of his cauldron with the tip of his wand, as they seemed to be going out. The surface of Hermione's potion, however, was a shimmering mist of silver vapour, and as Snape swept by he looked down his hooked nose at it without comment, which meant he could find nothing to criticise.

At Harry's cauldron, however, Snape stopped, and looked down at it with a horrible smirk on his face. "Potter, what is this supposed to be?" The Slytherins at the front of the class all looked up eagerly.

"The Draught of Peace," said Harry tensely.

"Tell me, Potter," said Snape softly, "can you read?"

Draco Malfoy laughed. Snape was reminding Jack more and more of Pitch. "Yes, I can," said Harry, his fingers clenched tightly around his wand. "Read the third line of the instructions for me, Potter." Harry squinted at the blackboard; it was not easy to make out the instructions through the haze of multi-colored steam now filling the dungeon.

"Add powdered moonstone, stir three times counter-clockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes then add two drops of syrup of hellebore."

"Did you do everything on the third line, Potter?"

"No," said Harry very quietly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"No," said Harry, more loudly. "I forgot the hellebore."

"I know you did, Potter, which means that this mess is utterly worthless. _Evanesce_." The contents of Harry's potion vanished; he was left standing foolishly beside an empty cauldron. Jack seethed. the temperature of the room dropped even more. He was furious at Snape, as well as the Slytherins. he heard the dull crackle of ice, and a moment later, a gasp from Malfoy. The flames had frozen solid. It was actually really cool looking, but not conducive to potion making.

Snape didn't notice.

"Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name and bring it up to my desk for testing," he said "Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday."

While everyone around him filled their flagons, Harry cleared away his things, obviously seething. His potion had been no worse than Ron's, which was now giving off a foul odour of bad eggs; or Neville's, which had achieved the consistency of just-mixed cement and which Neville was now having to gouge out of his cauldron; yet it was, Harry, who would be receiving zero marks for the day's work.

He stuffed his wand back into his bag and slumped down on to his seat, watching everyone else march up to Snape's desk with filled and corked flagons. Jack watched sympathetically. If he could he would help, but Snape vanished the potion personally.

When at long last the bell rang, Harry was first out of the dungeon and had already started his lunch by the time Jack, Ron, and Hermione joined him in the Great Hall. The ceiling had turned an even murkier grey during the morning, and rain was lashing the high windows, the sky seemed to reflect the fours mood. Upset, dark, and tumultuous

* * *

**So, I'm back :D, I opened another spot on the qudditch team for Jack, I want him to play. I would have had Jack snap at Snape, but he needs detention with Umbridge for stuff to happen. Bye, see you next time. **


	8. Divination

**I have been looking forward to this one for a while now, Jack meet Professor Trelawney. PS most of this chapter is from Harry's POV, just 'cause I thought it would be cooler as an outsider looking in.**

The three slid into the benches at the tables, Ron beside Harry and Jack across from him, with Hermione beside Jack. He wasn't sure it was a good idea to put Ron and Hermione across from each other, but if anyone had to look Ron in the face when he ate, better her than him.

"That was really unfair." Jack said, still angry because of Snape's obvious prejudice against Harry. Hermione and Ron nodded in agreement.

"Your potion wasn't nearly as bad as Goyle's; when he put it in his flagon the whole thing shattered and set his robes on fire." Hermione said sympathetically.

Jack smirked a bit at the memory of Goyle flailing around, yelling frantically. Harry glared, "something funny?"

"Yeah, actually," Jack snickered, "Goyle's face when he hopped around the classroom, screaming like a little girl." That nearly got a smile from Harry, the corners of his lips tilted upwards a fraction at the thought.

"Yeah, well, Snape 'as never been to fair, 'as 'E," Ron mumbled around yet another huge bite if food. Jack mentally slapped himself, Hermione was right, Ron had no tact. The two shot him dirty looks as Harry's face fell. "Yeah." Harry said glumly.

"I did think it would be better this year, you know, now that..." Hermione trailed off, looking at Jack. He held up his hands. "Speak freely, your secrets are safe with me." Jack shot her a charming grin. She rolled her eyes. "Sorry Jack, we can't." Jack shrugged, "okay." He replied easily.

He understood why they were keeping quiet about certain things, especially pertaining to the Order. (Jack got a very long lecture about all thing Order of the Phoenix and anti-Voldemort from North.) "I'd leave and let you guys chat, but I have no idea where I'm going." That elicited small smiles from the trio.

"well, as I was saying, I thought Snape might be better this year. Apparently not."

"Poisonous toadstools don't change their spots." Ron interjected helpfully. "Anyway, I've always thought Dumbledore was cracked to trust Snape. Where's the evidence he ever really stopped working for You-Know-Who?" Jack was about to speak that, no Snape was not working for Voldemort, though yes, he was a jerk. Before he could, Hermione snapped "I think Dumbledore's probably got plenty of evidence, even if he doesn't share it with you, Ron,"

"Oh, shut up, the pair of you," said Harry heavily, as Ron opened his mouth to argue back. Hermione and Ron both froze, looking angry and offended. Jack looked shocked "Can't you give it a rest?" said Harry. "You're always having a go at each other, it's driving me mad." And abandoning his shepherd's pie, Harry swung his schoolbag back over his shoulder and left them sitting there. Jack got up and hurried after him.

He knew what it was like to be alone when he was hurting, confused and, though Harry hasn't said, Jack could plainly see it, scared. He knew Harry wasn't alone, though, even if Harry didn't.

* * *

**Harry's P.O.V**

The anger that had just flared so unexpectedly still blazed inside Harry, and the vision of Ron and Hermione's shocked faces afforded him a sense of deep satisfaction. Serve them right, he thought, why can't they give it a rest . . . bickering all the time . . . it's enough to drive anyone up the wall . . ..

He was just about to pass Sir Cadogan the knight when Jack caught up to him. He didn't speak, and neither did Harry, ignoring Sir Cadogan's shouts for them to 'face me, scurvy cowards'.

Jack broke the silence when they got to the divination tower. "Are you okay?" He asked softly. Harry was so startled by the question that he didn't answer for a moment. He turned to Jack, "honestly? I don't know." Jack nodded and didn't press him.

"Believe me, I know what it's like not to be believed in." He muttered so softly Harry almost didn't hear him. He glanced at Jack, his pale face was stony and his icy eyes looked as though he was hundreds of miles away. When he saw Harry looking he snapped a bright smile into place, "but you, are believed in. And not just by me, Luna, Ron, and Hermione." Harry snorted disbelievingly. "No, I'm not."

"You'd be surprised." Then Jack grinned. "So, youngest Seeker in a century?" He asked. Harry smiled, happy to drop the subject. They spent the rest of the hour talking about Quidditch, by the end of it, Harry had agreed to help teach Jack. Though, he didn't exactly need it, he just wanted to give Harry an excuse to fly some more, not that Harry knew it.

When it was time, the two ascended the silver ladder into the tower. Divination was Harry's least favorite class after potions, mainly due to Professor Trelawney predicting his premature death every other lesson. The woman, who constantly wore a multitude of beads and shawls, reminded Harry very much of a large insect, with her glittering glasses and spindly limbs. She was busy putting copies of battered leather-bound books on each of the spindly little tables when the pair entered the room, but the light cast by the lamps covered by scarves and the low-burning, sickly-scented fire was so dim she appeared not to notice them as they took seats in the shadows.

Harry and Jack spent the next five minutes in silence as the rest of the class arrived. When Ron caught sight of them he made his was directly, well as directly as he could dodging tables, chairs, and overstuffed poofs, over to them. "Hermione and me have stopped arguing," he said, sitting down beside Harry.

"Good," Harry grunted.

"But Hermione says she thinks it would be nice if you stopped taking out your temper on us," said Ron.

"I'm not - "

" just passing on the message," said Ron, talking over him. "But I reckon she's right. It's not our fault how Seamus and Snape treat you."

"I never said it - "

"'Good-" Professor Trelawney's greeting was cut off with a shriek. She raised a trembling hand and pointed at the trio. "Y-y-yuh Ah!" She stammered, stumbling back a step. She was pale and shaking like a leaf, mouth moving silently. The class looked around in confusion.

"Um, is she always like this?" Jack murmured quietly. Harry looked round, "no, not that i've ever seen before." Ron shook his head.

Parvati and Lavender rushed over to Trelawney, "Professor, Professor are you all right?" Lavender cried. Trelawney put the back of her hand to her head and wailed dramatically, "death, I see death in you!"

"Oh, here we go again." Harry muttered. First lesson of the year and it was already starting.

"And the snow, and moonlight," He noticed Jack stiffen almost imperceptibly. "A great sacrifice and great loneliness." She sobbed. "LEAVE" she screamed, "go, this lesson is over!" She gestured wildly to the trapdoor. The class, sans Parvati and Lavender, rushed from the room. The hall filled with muttering and chatter.

"Harry, I don't know what you did mate, but thank you!" A voice shouted cheerfully. But Harry had the strangest feeling Professor Trelawney hadn't been looking at him, she had been looking, at Jack.

* * *

**So, kind of short, *sheepishly* hehe, but I couldn't find another place to end it without it sounding awkward. **


	9. Defense against the dark arts

**I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I have an excuse. I was , um, sick, sooo, not killing me would be much appreciated. Hehe.**

* * *

As they walked towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom Rob grumbled, "that Umbridge woman better not give us any we've already got loads." Jack grumbled in agreement and Harry groaned.

When they entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom they found Professor Umbridge already seated at the teachers desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and the black velvet bow on top of her head. Jack was reminded forcibly of a large fly perched on top of an even larger toad.

The class was quiet as they entered the classroom. Umbridge was, as yet, an unknown variable. They did not know how strict or lenient she would be. But Jack had a bad feeling about her.

"Well, good afternoon!" She said as soon as the class settled down. A few other students gave a half hearted 'good afternoon' in reply.

"Tut, tut," said Professor Umbridge. "That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge'. One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," the others chanted back at her. Jack glared silently. She gave him a VERY bad feeling.

"There, now," said Professor Umbridge sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."

The others shared long-suffering looks. Presumably the order 'wands away' had never been followed by a lesson they had found interesting. Jack shoved his wand back inside his bag and pulled quill, ink and parchment.

Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once: Defense Against the Dark Arts A Return to Basic Principles

"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year. You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please." She rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by the 'Course Aims'.

1\. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.

2\. Learning to recognise situations in which defensive magic can legally he used

3\. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

For a couple of minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. Something about it felt off, somehow though.

When everyone had copied down Professor Umbridge's three course aims she asked,

"Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?" There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the class. "I think we'll try that again," said Professor Umbridge. "When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply, 'Yes, Professor Umbridge', or 'No, Professor Umbridge'. So: has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

Jack rolled his eyes as "Yes, Professor Umbridge," rang through the room.

"Good," said Professor Umbridge. "I should like you to turn to page five and read 'Chapter One, Basics for Beginners'. There will be no need to talk."

Professor Umbridge left the blackboard and settled herself in the chair behind the teacher's desk, observing them all closely with those pouchy toad's eyes. With a sigh, Jack turned to page five of his copy of Defensive Magical Theory and started to read.

It was incredibly dull. Worse than listening to Professor Binns. He soon felt his concentration slipping and gave up. He glanced around to see Harry doing the same, Ron staring absently at the page, turning his quill over and over, and Hermione, Jack blinked in surprise, Hermione hadn't even opened her copy of the book, she was sitting straight up, eyes fixed on Professor Umbridge, hand hovering in the air.

She seemed to notice he and Harry staring curiously at her, but merely shook her head slightly, and continued staring at Umbridge, who resolutely looked in another direction. After several more minutes had passed, however, Jack and Harry were not the only ones watching Hermione. The chapter they had been had been so mind-numbingly boring that the students had chosen to watch Hermione's mute attempts to catch Umbridge's eye rather than struggle on.

When more than half the class was staring at Hermione rather than at their books, Professor Umbridge seemed to decide that she could ignore the situation no longer.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" she asked Hermione, as though she had only just noticed her.

"Not about the chapter, no," said Hermione.

"Well, we're reading just now," said Professor Umbridge, showing her small pointed teeth. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."

Jack raised an eyebrow fractionally, barely managing to hold back a snort. Query? Really?

"I've got a query about your course aims," said Hermione. Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows.

"And your name is?"

"Hermione Granger," said Hermione.

"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully" said Professor Umbridge in a voice of determined sweetness.

"Well, I don't," said Hermione bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."

Jack KNEW there was something wrong with the list! There was a short silence as many students checked the blackboard.

"Using defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

Jack gaped.

"We aren't going to use magic!" Ron cried.

"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr - ?"

Jack scoffed slightly, supremely irritated.

"Weasley," said Ron, thrusting his hand into the air. Professor Umbridge, still smiling widely, turned her back on him. Jack thrust his hand into the air along with Harry and Hermione. Professor Umbridge's pouchy eyes lingered on Harry for a moment before she addressed Hermione.

"Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "Surely the whole point of Defence Against the Dark Arts is to practise defensive spells?"

"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?" asked Professor Umbridge, in her falsely sweet voice. "No, but - " "Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the 'whole point' of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you-"

okay, hold on a minute. what!? Hermione was one of the cleverest people Jack had met, and he'd only known her for a little while. Just because she was a child doesn't mean she didn't know what she was talking about.

"-have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way - "

"The real world isn't risk free!" Jack snapped.

"Hand!" Jack waved the hand that was already in the air. Umbridge turned her back on him. He growled slightly under his breath. By now several others had their hands up as well.

"Yes mister..."

"Thomas, Dean Thomas. And it's like Jack said, if you're attacked-"

"And do you expect to be attacked in my class?"

"No but-" Professor Umbridge talked over him. " I do not wish to criticise the way things have been run in this school," she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, "but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed - not to mention," she gave a nasty little laugh, "extremely dangerous half-breeds."

Jack ground his teeth. He knew for a fact Remus Lupin and Rubeus Hagrid were two great men, if you don't consider Hagrid's unhealthy obsession with deadly beasts.

"If you mean Professor Lupin,"piped up Dean angrily, "he was the best we ever -"

"Hand, Mr Thomas! As I was saying - you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day - "

"No we haven't," Hermione said, "we just-"

"Your hand is not up Miss Granger!" Hermione put her hand up, but Umbridge turned away from her. Jack had to try hard not to freeze her on the spot. As it was, all the windows frosted over. "It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you."

"Yeah, but didn't he turn out to be a maniac?" Jack pointed out.

"Mind you," Dean added thoughtfully, "we still learned loads."

"Your hands are not up, boys!" Said Umbridge shrilly."Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about-"

Ah, so it is all about the politics then. Well spotted Hermione.

"- And your name is?' she asked, staring at Parvati, whose hand had just shot up.

"Parvati Patil, and isn't there a practical bit in our Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the counter-curses and things?"

"As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions," said Professor Umbridge dismissively.

"You mean without practicing before hand!" Jack asked incredulously.

"Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells will be during our exam?" Cried Parvati.

" I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough - "

"And what good's theory going to be in the real world?" said Harry loudly, his fist in the air again. Professor Umbridge looked up

"This is school, Mr Potter, not the real world," she said softly.

"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting for us out there?" Jack demanded

"There is nothing waiting out there, Mr...?"

"Frost." He snapped, "and how can you say there is nothing out there? Of course there is!"

"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" enquired Professor Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice

"Hmm, let's think . . ." said Harry in a mock thoughtful voice. "Maybe . . . Lord Voldemort?"

Ron gasped; Lavender Brown uttered a little scream; Neville slipped sideways off his stool. Jack frowned, he'd been thinking Pitch Black, but that worked too.

Professor Umbridge did not flinch. She was staring at Harry with a grimly satisfied expression on her face.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr Potter." The classroom was silent and still. Everyone was staring at either Umbridge or Harry. "Now, let me make a few things quite plain." Professor Umbridge stood up and leaned towards them, her stubby hands splayed on her desk. " You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead - "

"He wasn't dead," said Harry angrily, "but yeah, he's returned!"

"Mr-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-house-ten-points-do-not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself," said Professor Umbridge in one breath without looking at him. "As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie."

"It is NOT a lie!" said Harry. " I saw him, I fought him!"

"Detention, Mr Potter!" said Professor Umbridge triumphantly. "Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock. My office. I repeat, this is a lie."

"Why would Harry lie about something like that, what could be possibly have to gain?"

"That goes for you too Mr. Frost! The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, 'Basics for Beginners'."

Spy! She was asking students to spy for her!

Professor Umbridge sat down behind her desk. Harry, however, stood up. Everyone was staring at him; Seamus looked half-scared, half fascinated.

"Harry, no!" Hermione whispered in a warning voice, tugging at his sleeve, but Harry jerked his arm out of her reach.

"Harry." Jack hissed warningly.

"So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?" Harry asked, his voice shaking. Jack winced.

There was a collective intake of breath from the class, for none of them, apart from Ron and Hermione, had ever heard Harry talk about what had happened on the night Cedric had died. They stared avidly from Harry to Professor Umbridge, who had raised her eyes and was staring at him without a trace of a fake smile on her face.

"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident," she said coldly.

"Accident?!" Said Jack. "No way! What you think he tripped over his own feet and ended up hit with a killing curse somehow!? It was murder! Somebody killed him, and I believe Harry. And I think you know he's telling the truth too, you're just too scared to admit it."


	10. McGonagall's warning

**Aah! So many reviews! I love you guys! *hugs everyone***

** To Twilight16, She was reading his past, I am not going to kill Jack! I'm not Moffat. Though, there maybe whump (face it, we all love some good whump) depending on where this goes. **

**I'm not sure I mentioned this before but ROTG and HP are, unfortunately, not mine :(**

* * *

There was a sharp intake of breath from the room. Professor Umbridge's face was blank. For a moment, Jack thought she was going to scream at them. Then she said, in her softest, most sweet girlish voice, "Come here, Mr. Frost, Mr Potter, dear." They glanced at each other, surprised. Jack shrugged, and walked up to the teachers desk. It felt as is the room itself was holding its breath. Professor Umbridge pulled a small roll of pink parchment out of her handbag, stretched it out on the desk, dipped her quill into a bottle of ink and started scribbling, hunched over so that Jack and Harry could not see what she was writing. Nobody spoke. After a minute or so she rolled up the parchment and tapped it with her wand; it sealed itself seamlessly so that he could not open it.

"Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear," said Professor Umbridge, holding out the note to Harry. "You go with him, Mr. Frost." They turned to go, but before they left Jack quickly froze her pink heels to the ground. The whole class watched as they left.

The two hurried down the corridor in silence for a moment. Harry finally spoke, "thanks." Jack frowned at him.

"For, you know, believing me."

Jack smiled, "wasn't hard, you are telling the truth."

They turned the corner and ran into Peeves. Jack frowned at the poltergeist. They'd met before, and though Jack was quite the prankster, Peeves's taunting rubbed him the wrong way.

"Ooh, why its Potty Wee Potter!" He cackled, letting two of the inkwells he had been juggling fall to the ground. Harry and Jack jumped backwards to avoid being doused in ink.

"Go away, Peeves." Snarled Jack.

"Oh, touchy are we." He grinned maniacally, zooming down to the boys. He turned his attention to Harry, "What is it this time, my fine Potty friend? Hearing voices? Seeing visions? Speaking in - " Peeves blew a loud raspberry "- tongues?"

"Leave us alone!" yelled Harry. Jack was about to grab his staff, before remembering that it was now very small, and strung on a necklace. He grabbed his wand instead. He remembered a spell he had seen in one of the books.

"Waddiwazi!" He cried, pointing the wand at the shattered ink well. The ink froze and zoomed at Peeves who, having recognized the spell, was zooming away as fast as he could. He flew around the corner and the boys heard a cry. Harry grinned.

"Nice."

"Why thank you." Jack laughed. The two arrived at Professor McGonagall's office a few minutes later and knocked. She stepped out looking grim and slightly harassed.

"Why aren't you two in class?" she asked.

"We've been sent to see you." Harry replied stiffly, any trace of previous humor gone.

"Sent? What do you mean, sent?"

Harry held out the horridly pink note. Jack decided he despised pink (sorry Cupcake.) Professor McGonagall took the note and slit it open with a tap of her wand. Her eyes zoomed from side to side as she read what Umbridge had written, and with each line they narrowed further, until they were flint-like slits.

"Come inside, boys." They followed her into the study, the door closing automatically

"Is this true?" she demanded, rounding on them.

"Is what true?" Harry asked. Jack winced at his aggressive tone.

"Professor." He tacked on to Harry's statement.

"Is it true you two confronted Professor Umbridge?"

"Yes." they said together.

"You called her a liar."

"Not in so many words, but yeah."

"You told her you-know-who is back?"

"Yes." they chorused.

McGonagall sat down behind her desk, watching Harry and Jack. Then, to both boys shock, she said. "Have a biscuit."

Jack blinked surprised

"Have- what?" Harry asked.

"Have a biscuit," She repeated impatiently, indicating the tartan tin lying on top of her desk. "and sit down."

They sank into the chairs across from her, and Jack suspiciously accepted the cookie, some type of ginger snap like thing. McGonagall looked seriously at them.

"Potter," she addressed Harry, "You need to be careful." She warned anxiously. Harry and Jack sported identical looks of surprise. "Mr. Frost, could I please have a word with Mr. Potter?" She asked. Reluctantly, Jack stood and left the room. He took an extendable ear that the Weasley twins had lent him from his pocket. North had said it was his job to protect Harry, and his duty as a Guardian was one of the few things in life that Jack took seriously.

"... Umbridge's class could cost you more than house points and detention."

"What do you-"

"Potter, use your common sense." she cut Harry off. "you know where she comes from, you must know to whom she is reporting." Fudge, Jack realized. She must have been at Harry's trial. Suddenly the bell rang. Jack snatched back the ear. After a moment her heard raised voices, unfortunately still too muffled by the door to actually distinguish what they said. A minute later Harry came out, looking glum.

"what?" Jack asked instantly.

"Detention, every day this week."

"at least you don't have to suffer alone." Jack said cheerfully.

Harry groaned. "Keeper tryouts are Friday." Jack whistled.

"Angelina's going to have your head." Harry glared at him, Jack held his hands up in surrender. "At leased chaser tryouts are Sunday, you can still go to them." He pointed out. Harry nodded, but still looked troubled. Jack could guess why. It was infuriating to tell the truth and not be believed. Or even listened to. Unfortunately, this wasn't about truth and lies. Moon, Jack hated people like Umbridge, who ignored the truth even though it was staring them in the face, because they were wrong, or scared, or for politics. He sighed, too.

"C'mon, lets get to the feast."

* * *

**SO, I finally brought another chapter. Sorry it took so long, and it's short. But soon, stuff happens :)**


	11. Suspicious

Dinner in the Great Hall must have been miserable for Harry. Word of Harry and Umbridge's shouting match had spread exceptionally fast, even by Hogwarts standards, according to the trio. The rumors had twisted so that Jacks participation had been forgotten. He knew this because they could here every word from their place at the table.

Oddly, It seemed that no one bothered hiding what they were saying. In fact, it was as if they wanted Harry to hear what was said. Maybe they wanted him to get mad and start shouting the story so they could hear it.

"He says he saw Cedric Diggory murdered . . ."

"He reckons he dueled with You-Know-Who . . ."

"Come off it . . ."

"Who does he think he's kidding?"

"Puh-lease . . ."

Actually, it took all if Jack's self control not to start shouting himself. As it was, the air for a good portion of the room around him was frigid, and the gossips often found various possessions frozen to whatever surface they were on. Malfoy ended up with his tongue stuck to his goblet for a good five minutes after Jack passed.

"What I don't get," said Harry through clenched teeth, (Jack instantly thought of Tooth, he really needed to write to the guardians) laying down his knife and fork-his hands appeared to be shaking too much to hold them still- "is why they all believed the story two months ago when Dumbledore told them ."

Jack doubted they had, and was about to say so when Hermione beat him to it.

" The thing is, Harry, I'm not sure they did," said Hermione grimly. "Oh, let's get out of here."

She slammed down her own knife and fork, standing. Harry and Jack followed suit. Ron cast a longing look back at his partially finished pie, before following. People stared as they hurried from the hall.

"What do you mean, they didn't believe Dumbledore?" Harry demanded once they reached the first floor landing.

"Look, you don't understand what it was like after it happened," said Hermione quietly. "You arrived back in the middle of the lawn clutching Cedric's dead body . . . none of us saw what what happened in the maze . . . we just had Dumbledore's word for it that You-Know-Who had come back and killed Cedric and fought you."

"'Which is the truth!" said Harry loudly.

"Yeah, Harry. WE know that." Jack assured, "but they went home to their families before the truth sunk in, back to scared families who don't want to believe Voldemort's back. They never had a chance to believe before they were told it was a lie, you are off your rocker, and Dumbledore is crazy."

Ron frowned at him. "So, If no one else believed Harry, why do you?"

'Uh-oh'. Jack thought furiously, "my Uncle North never believed he was really gone in the first place." He said smoothly. Ron nodded, and Jack let out and internal sigh of relief.

Rain pounded on the windows as the four walked back towards the Gryffindor common room. It suddenly occurred to Jack that this was only the first day of school. It felt like weeks. If every day was this long, the rest of the year would be torture. To top it off, they had a mountain of homework.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia," said Hermione, before the Fat Lady could ask. It swung open and they scrambled inside. The room was mostly empty, almost everyone was still at dinner.

Baby Tooth zoomed over to Jack, watched by Crookshanks. He uncoiled himself and padded over, purring loudly. When the four sat down he jumped into Hermione's lap, curling up like a fluffy ginger pillow. After a moment Hermione cried,

"How could Dumbledore let this happen!"

Harry, Ron, and Jack jumped. Crookshanks hissed, springing off her lap and slinking away. BT squeaked indignantly from Jack's shoulder where she had been napping.

"How can he let that terrible woman teach us! And during our OWL year too!"

"Well, we've never had great Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, have we?" said Harry. "You know what it's like, Hagrid told us, nobody wants the job, they say it's jinxed."

"Yes, but to employ so-"

"Hermione," Jack interrupted, "I don't think Dumbledore had much choice in the matter, not if Fudge sent her."

Hermione nodded, seeming to deflate. "Yes, yes, I think your right." she admitted." she heaved a great sigh. "come on, lets just do our homework."

"You do homework, I have to deliver this." Jack held up the parchment he had been scribbling on. "I'll be back soon. C'mon BT." He sprang to his feet and left the room, Baby Tooth perched on his shoulder.

* * *

Harry turned to his bag, pulling out his potions essay. Ron followed suit. Hermione, however, was looking after Jack, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"The... Properties... Of... Moonstone... And... It's... Uses... In... Potion-making" Ron muttered, writing the words on the top of his page. He underlined it, then looked up at Hermione expectantly.

"So, what are the properties of moonstone and it's uses in potion making?" He asked Hermione.

"Hm?" She glanced at him, "Oh." she then turned to Harry, ignoring Ron's question. "Do you think there's something a little... Off, about Jack?"

"Off?" Harry repeated, puzzled. She nodded. "No, he seems fine to me, Ron?"

Ron agreed with Harry. "Why?" he asked, "Did you?"

"Yes." she sat back. "when he got angry the temperature dropped."

Ron scoffed. "It's been freezing and rainy all day."

"yeah, but only around him. And Harry, after you two left, Umbridge tried to walk, but her shoes were stuck and she fell."

"well if that was Jack, we should be thanking him. Bloody toad deserved it." Ron snorted.

"I don't know Hermione. He seems nice enough to me, and my scar didn't hurt around him."Harry pointed out. Hermione nodded, but was still frowning.

"But Jack Frost. I recognize that name. And did you notice, when we asked why he believed you, he hesitated before answering."

"No." Harry and Ron replied at the same time. Hermione opened her mouth to continue when she was distracted by movement at the other side of the classroom. The knot of first years surrounding Fred, George, and Lee Jordan collapsed one by one, as though hit over the head by an invisible frying pan.

"Oh, now they have gone too far. Come on Ronald." She squared her shoulders and marched over to where Fred and George stood with clipboards, closely studying the first years and jotting down notes, obviously recording the results. Ron hovered halfway out of his chair for a moment before shaking his head.

"Nah, she's got it." before sinking as low in the chair as his tall, lanky frame would allow. At that moment Jack walked back over and sat in his chair, BT conspicuously absent. He watched Hermione begin to scold the Weasley twins, amusement brimming in his bright blue eyes.

"That' enough!" Hermione snapped. Fred and George looked up in mild surprise.

"yeah, you're right. The dosage looks strong enough now." George said.

"I told you this morning, you can't test your rubbish on students!"

"Rubbish?" Jack looked affronted, "Those are awesome."

"We're paying them!" said Fred indignantly.

"I don't care, it could be dangerous."

"Rubbish." Said Fred.

"Calm down Hermione, the're fine." Lee reassured, walking from first year to first year, inserting purple sweets into their open mouths.

"Yeah, look. They're coming around now." said George. A few of the first years were stirring. Several looked shocked to find themselves on the floor, or dangling off their chairs. Harry was sure that the twins hadn't warned them what the candy would do.

"Feel alright?" George asked a small, dark-haired girl lying at his feet.

"I-I think so."

"Excellent!" he made a mark on his clip board. But the next second Hermione had snatched away both boards and the bag of Fainting Fancies.

"It is not excellent!"

"Yeah, it is." Jack grinned at Harry. He had to stifle a laugh. He had guessed from the beginning that Jack was the prankster type. Clearly he wasn't wrong.

"'Course it is. They're alive, aren't they?" Said Fred angrily.

"you can't do this, what if you make them really ill?"

"we're not going to make them really ill, we've already tested them on ourselves, we just needed to see if everyone reacts the same-"

"If you don't stop," Hermione threatened, "I'm going to-"

"Put us in detention?" challenged Fred.

"Make us write lines?" George smirked. Onlookers in the room were laughing. Hermione furiously drew herself up to her full height. Her eyes narrowed and her bushy hair seemed to crackle with electricity.

"No," Her voice shook with rage, "but I will write your mother."


	12. Lessons

Jack whistled softly, " wow, harsh" Harry nodded. Ron had sunken so low in his chair his knees were roughly level with his ears.

"You wouldn't," said George, horrified, taking a step back from her.

"Oh, yes, I would," said Hermione grimly. " I can't stop you eating the stupid things yourselves, but you're not to give them to the first-years,"

Fred and George looked thunderstruck. It was clear that as far as they were concerned, Hermione's threat was way below the belt.

"Is Mrs. Weasley that bad?"

Harry looked at him, and Ron nodded mutely.

"She once sent us a howler, second year." Harry grimaced at the memory. Ron sunk lower.

With a last threatening look at them, Hermione thrust Fred's clipboard and the bag of Fancies back into his arms, and stalked back to her chair by the fire.

"Thank you for your help, Ronald." She said acidly.

"You handled it fine." He mumbled.

Hermione stared down at her blank piece of parchment for a few seconds, then said edgily, "Oh, it's no good, I can't concentrate now. I'm going to bed."

She wrenched her bag open; Jack thought she was about to put her books away, but instead she pulled out two misshapen woolly objects, placed them carefully on a table by the fireplace, covered them with a few screwed-up bits of parchment and a broken quill and stood back to admire the effect.

Jack frowned, "um, is this normal?" Hermione glared at him.

"It's for the house-elves, they're hats."

Jack raised an eyebrow, they didn't look like hats, and... "Why did you cover them in junk?"

"You're trying to trick them into picking up the hats. You're setting them free when they might not want to be free." Ron said accusingly.

"Don't be ridiculous, of course they want to be free!" She glared sternly, "don't you dare touch those hats Ron."

She turned on her heel and left. Ron waited until she had disappeared through the door to the girls' dormitories, then cleared the rubbish off the woolly hats.

" They should at least see what they're picking up," he said firmly. "Anyway . . ." he rolled up the parchment on which he had written the title of Snape's essay, "there's no point trying to finish this now, I can't do it without Hermione, I haven't got a clue what you're supposed to do with moonstones, have you?"

Harry shook his head, and Jack noticed him wince.

"I'm going to bed too."

Jack frowned, they would regret that come morning. As Harry and Ron set off towards the dorm, Jack pulled out his own essay. The sorting hat was right, he was smarter than most people gave him credit for. He stared at the massive book in front of him and sighed. That didn't mean he had to like it. Resigning himself to a long night, he set to work.

The following day dawned just as leaden and rainy as the previous one. Hagrid was still absent from the staff table at breakfast.

"But on the plus side, no Snape today," said Ron. Jack nodded, a small blessing at least.

Hermione yawned widely and poured herself some coffee. She looked mildly pleased about something, and when Ron asked her what she had to be so happy about, she simply said,

"The hats have gone. Seems the house-elves do want freedom after all."

"I wouldn't bet on it," Ron told her cuttingly. "They might not count as clothes. They didn't look anything like hats to me, more like woolly bladders."

Jack and Harry shared long suffering looks, knowing what was coming. Sure enough, Hermione did not speak to him all morning.

Double charms (which Jack had a knack for) was followed by double transfiguration, (which was harder, but he was better than Harry and Ron, at least).Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall both spent the first fifteen minutes of their lessons lecturing the class on the importance of OWLs.

"What you must remember," said little Professor Flitwick squeakily, perched on a pile of books so that he could see over the top of his desk, "that these examinations may influence your futures for many years to come! If you have not already given serious thought to your careers, now is the time to do so. And in the meantime, I'm afraid, we shall be working harder than ever to ensure that you all do yourselves justice!"

They then spent over an hour revising Summoning Charms, which according to Professor Flitwick were bound to come up in their OWL, and he rounded off the lesson by setting them a huge amount of Charms homework. The largest ever apparently. It was the same, if not worse, in Transfiguration.

"You cannot pass an OWL," said Professor McGonagall grimly, "without serious application, practice and study. I see no reason why everybody in this class should not achieve an OWL in Transfiguration as long as they put in the work."

Neville made a sad little disbelieving noise.

"Yes, you too, Longbottom,"said Professor McGonagall. "There's nothing wrong with your work except lack of confidence. So . . . today we are starting Vanishing Spells. These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you would not usually attempt until NEWT level, but they are still among the most difficult magic you will be tested on in your OWL."

McGonagall was right, the only one to get the spell right was Hermione, to no ones surprise. She got it on three tries, getting Gryffindor a ten point bonus. Jack did manage to make his snail transparent, so that was something. Though, being a spirit, he probably had an advantage.

Neither Harry or Ron vanished their snails, though Ron said, hopefully, his looked a bit paler. Jack didn't think so, but kept his mouth shut. Hermione was the only one not given homework, everyone else had to practice, and be ready to try again next time.

Harry and Ron were panicking slightly about the amount of homework they had, so the three boys spent lunch in the library. Hermione, still upset about the hat thing, didn't join in. Jack finished up his history of magic essay while Harry and Ron, with some help from Jack's completed assignment, frantically finished their potions homework.

By the time they reached Care of Magical Creatures in the afternoon the day had become cool and breezy, and as they walked down the sloping lawn towards Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, they felt the occasional drop of rain on their faces. Professor Grubbly-Plank stood waiting for the class some ten yards from Hagrid's front door, a long table in front of her laden with twigs.

When they passed Malfoy and his gang, (cackling, as per usual) Jack surreptitiously froze a patch of grass. It was the Gryffindors turn to laugh as Malfoy and at least four other Slytherins fell on their buts.

"Everyone here?" barked Professor Grubbly-Plank, once all the Slytherins and Gryffindors had arrived. "Let's crack on then. Who can tell me what these things are called?"

She indicated the heap of twigs in front of her. Hermione's hand shot into the air. Behind her back, Malfoy (now recovered from his earlier tumble) did a buck-toothed imitation of her jumping up and down in eagerness to answer a question. Pansy Parkinson gave a shriek of laughter that turned almost at once into a scream, in part because the twigs on the table had sprung to life, in part because Jack had (anonymously of course) dropped a chunk of ice down her, Malfoy, and Crabbe and Goyle's robes.

The twigs had revealed themselves to be what looked like tiny pixie-ish creatures made of wood, each with knobbly brown arms and legs, two twiglike fingers at the end of each hand and a funny flat, barklike face in which a pair of beetle-brown eyes glittered. Jack recognized them as Bowtruckels, spirits that guarded certain trees, and had a nasty habit of scratching people's eyes out.

"Ooooh!" said Parvati and Lavender, Harry gritted his teeth beside Jack. Jack forced a smile down, thinking about what Tooth would say.

"Keep it down, please, girls." Professor Grubbly-Plank told them, "Yes miss..?"

"Granger. They're Bowtruckels. They usually live in wand trees."

"Correct, five points to Gryffindor." She said, spreading some rice looking things around. The Bowtruckels immediately fell upon what Jack guessed to be woodlice.

"Does anybody know what they eat?"

"Woodlice," replied Hermione promptly , "But fairy eggs if they can get them."

Jack was suddenly very glad Baby Tooth was busy delivering his letter, or else she would have torn into the Bowtruckels, and Jack knew that she was NOT a fairy you wanted to get angry. He remembered the time she stabbed Pitch in the had with her beak, and couldn't help a small smile. He noticed Harry and Ron shift,

"Fairy eggs, like BT kind of fairy eggs?" Harry asked.

"Nah, BT and her sisters are too smart for that, plus, if they tried, either the mini teeth would tear them apart, or Tooth, their leader, would." He explained.

"Really?" Ron whispered.

"Yup."

Ron looked at the creatures doubtfully, "those fingers look pretty sharp."

Jack snorted, "Tooth once punched Pitch Black in the face, she can handle a few Bowtruckels"

"Who?" They said at the same time.

"Ask Hermione." Jack replied, as Professor Grubbly-Plank was eyeing them sternly.

"Excellent, take another five points." She told Hermione, and proceeded to explain more about the creatures.

She told the class that she wanted them to have a labeled diagram of the Bowtruckels by the end of class. Jack noticed that Harry purposefully stood next to Grubbly-Plank.

"Where's Hagrid?" He asked.

"Never you mind." She replied, and walked off. Harry was clearly frustrated by the answer. Smirking all over his pointy ferret face, Malfoy leaned over, grabbing the largest Bowtruckel.

"Maybe," He said in an undertone, so quietly that Jack, had he been human, wouldn't have heard, even though he was right beside Harry. "That stupid great oaf has got himself badly injured."

"Maybe," Jack leaped to Hagrid's defense (He had heard stories about Hagrid from nymphs and nature spirits before) "you will if you don't shut up."

Malfoy's eyes widened, and he sneered. "What do you know about _it_."

Jack's blood boiled. Harry narrowed his eyes, about to snap back, but Jack beat him to it. He pinched the Bowtruckel Malfoy was holding. Not was realizing it was Jack, rather than Draco, that had done it, the creature squealed and slashed at Malfoy's face. Malfoy dropped it, ruby beads of blood appearing on his cheek.

"Pity," Jack mumbled, "I had hoped it would take out an eye."

Harry had to bite his lip and set the Bowtruckel down for fear of squeezing it to hard, laughing silently. Malfoy was taken to the hospital wing and the class continued without incident.


	13. Herbology

**Thank you to my new beta, Katara-Harkness**

* * *

Together, the four of them traipsed across the vegetable patch. The sky still appeared unable to make up its mind as to whether it wanted to rain or not. Harry was frowning worriedly.

"What is it?" Jack asked. Harry sighed,

"I just wish Hagrid would get back already." Jack nodded sympathetically. Harry rounded on Hermione. "And don't say that Grubbly-Plank woman is a better teacher."

Hermione looked unruffled. " I wasn't going to."

"Because she'll never be as good as Hagrid."

Jack wasn't too sure about that,after what Luna had said (then again she was Loony Lovegood, so...), but wisely decided that, as he was rather fond of his head, not to point that out. Besides, even though he had slipped into the trio pretty well, (They had been only too happy to include him after he stood up to Malfoy on the train) saying something against Hagrid was a surefire way to get himself exiled.

The door of a nearby greenhouse opened and some fourth-years spilled out, including Ginny.

"Hi," she called brightly, and the four smiled at her as she passed. A moment later Luna Lovegood drifted past, a smudge of dirt on her face and her blond hair piled in a messy bun atop her head. When she saw Harry her huge silvery eyes bulged excitedly and she hurried over. Many students turned to watch. Luna took a big breath and, without preamble, said,

" I believe He Who Must Not Be Named is back and I believe you fought him and escaped from him."

"Er - right," said Harry awkwardly. Luna was wearing what looked like a pair of orange radishes for earrings, a fact that Parvati and Lavender seemed to have noticed, as they were both giggling and pointing at her earlobes.

"You can laugh," Luna said, her voice rising, apparently under the impression that Parvati and Lavender were laughing at what she had said rather than what she was wearing, "but people used to believe there were no such things as the Blubbering Humdinger or the Crumple-Horned Snorkack!"

Jack frowned, the what or the who?

"Well, they were right, weren't they?" said Hermione impatiently. "There aren't any such things as the Blibbering Humdinger or the Crumple-Horned Snorkack."

Oh. That explained it. Luna glared and flounced off, radishes swinging. Parvati and Lavender weren't the only ones laughing now.

"Do you mind not offending one of the only people who believes me?" Harry snapped as they moved on. Hermione snorted,

"Ginny has told me all about her. She'll only believe in something when there's no proof at all."

Jack felt bad for Harry, he knew the feeling of not being believed in all too well. Still, Luna might not be the best way to make people listen.

"Well, I wouldn't expect anything less from the person whose father runs the Quibbler." She continued.

Jack remembered the strange winged horses from the night of the feast, and how Luna said she could see them too. From Harry's troubled expression he was thinking the same thing. Just then the Hufflepuff prefect, Eric or Eddie or something, came over.

" I want you to know, Potter," he said in a loud, carrying voice, "that it's not only weirdos who support you. I personally believe you one hundred percent. My family have always stood firm behind Dumbledore, and so do I."

Harry looked surprised, though pleased, "Er- thanks very much, Ernie" he said, probably grateful to have the support of someone without radishes dangling from their ears, no matter how pompous they seemed. Jack wasn't sure about the Hufflepuffs. He'd been told that each house had different traits, but it seemed like the sorting hat believed them to be the extras that no one else wanted, but North said that Hufflepuff was for hard workers and loyal friends (something Hermione had confirmed during her nearly twenty minute lecture about the houses earlier that morning.) That was another thing, though Jack definitely did not like Malfoy and co. he didn't understand why there was such general hatred between the two houses. Rivalry he could understand, after all, they were competing for the house and Quidditch cups, but full fledged hatred? Like he said to Ron the other night, ambition and cunning is not the same as evil. Sure, there were some stains on the Slytherin name ( Voldemort, the Malfoys and such) but that did not mean they were all inherently evil, right? He thought back to what North said before he became a guardian 'good or bad, naughty or nice, we protect them'. He sighed, that meant Malfoy too. Unfortunately. Fine, he wouldn't hurt him again. Badly.

Jack pulled himself out of his thoughts. Ernie's words had certainly wiped the smiles from most people's faces. Jack caught sight of Seamus's expression, a mixture of defiance and confusion.

To no one's surprise, Professor Sprout began the lesson with another fifteen minute lecture about the OWL's. Jack wished they'd stop, it was stressing even him out, and they didn't affect his entire future. Jack knew right off the bat he would hate OWL's. Sitting still that long, bored out of his mind? no way. He was the guardian of fun, and tests were not fun. If this sucked for him he could only guess how the others felt.

Sick, judging from Harry's slightly green complexion. It only got worse when Professor Sprout assigned yet another essay. Within the first few minutes of work, Jack decided he hated herbology. He was a winter spirit, ergo, no green thumb. After almost drowning their plant, he left most of the work to an annoyed Hermione.

They left the greenhouse sweaty, tired, hungry, and smelling strongly of dragon dung. Dragon dung? Really? Everyone was fairly quiet as they headed back to the main school, worn out by a long, long day.

Harry and Jack didn't bother going back to the dorm to drop off their bags, they wouldn't have time to eat before detention if they did. They had barely reached the Great Hall, however, when a loud voice called "Oi! Potter!"

"What now," Harry groaned, turning. Angelina was marching furiously across the room.

"I'll tell you what now!" She stormed up and poked him hard in the chest. Jack took a slow step back, looking warily between the two. "How come you've landed yourself in detention for five o'clock on Friday? Didn't I tell you I wanted to do a tryout with the whole team, and find someone who fitted in with everyone? Didn't I tell you I'd booked the Quidditch pitch specially? And now you've decided you're not going to be there"

"I didn't decide not to be there! I got detention from that Umbridge woman, just because I told her the truth about You-Know-Who."

"Well, you can just go straight to her and ask her to let you off on Friday," said Angelina fiercely, "and I don't care how you do it. Tell her You-Know-Who's a figment of your imagination if you like, just make sure you're there!" She turned on her heel and stormed away.

"You know what?" Harry said to Ron and Hermione as they entered the Great Hall. "I think we'd better check with Puddlemere United whether Oliver Wood's been killed during a training session, because Angelina seems to be channelling his spirit."

Jack remembered Harry mentioning the former Quidditch captain before. From what Harry was saying, he would guess that he had been pretty strict.

"What do you reckon the chances are of Umbridge letting you go to tryouts?" Ron asked.

"Zero" replied Jack grimly.

"Less." Harry said glumly, beginning to eat. "Still, I better try it anyway. I could offer to do two extra detentions instead, I dunno. . ." He swallowed a bite of food. "I hope she doesn't keep us too long this evening. You realize we've got to write three essays, practice Vanishing Spells for McGonagall, work out a counter-charm for Flitwick, and finish the Bowtruckle drawing?"

Ron moaned and for some reason glanced up at the ceiling. "And it looks like it's going to rain."

Jack frowned.

"What's that got to do with our homework?" said Hermione, her eyebrows raised.

"Nothing," said Ron at once, his ears reddening. Jack gave him a suspicious look, before continuing to hurry up and eat. He wasn't to sure what to expect for detention, he'd grown up in a time where caneing was considered perfectly acceptable, but knew that now punishments like that were considered cruel. Besides, this was a magic school which (aside from giving entirely too much homework) seemed pretty different from normal schools. He was curious to see what their punishment would be, apparently it could range from hunting unicorns with psychopathic dark lords on the loose, to polishing a trophy room. And the caretaker, Filch, had seemed very keen on stringing students up by their ears.


	14. Detention with the Toad

**Thanks once again to my amazing Beta, KatHarkness-Katara. Also, thanks to all the lovely people who faved, ****followed, and/or reviewed. It means so much to me. A special shout out to Izane Sunstrider for being awesome. I love each and every one of you guys, and there is no way I could manage to do this without your support. Seriously, ya'll are amazing, and it cannot be overstated. I know you all just want to move on to the story, so here you go. Enjoy.**

* * *

After bolting down dinner, Harry and Jack made their way to Umbridge's office. Harry knocked and in her sickly sweet voice, Umbridge called for them to come in. The boys stepped into the office cautiously. Jack nearly gagged. The first, overwhelming impression he got was pink. Pink and lace. Wretched, powdery pink and lacy doilies, old dead flowers, and technicolor cats on plates on the wall, each adorned with it's own over-sized bow.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter, Mr. Frost."

They both started, looking round. Her lurid, flower patterned robes blended with the tablecloth on the desk behind her.

"Evening, Professor Umbridge" Harry said stiffly. Jack remained silent. She looked at him expectantly, and he met her gaze evenly. One eyebrow crept up over a bulging eye as Jack remained stonily silent. Harry glared pointedly, as if saying '_be polite, we need her to let me out Friday_'.

Jack sighed, "Good evening, Professor."

"Well, sit down." She gestured for them to sit at the two straight backed chairs. A piece of parchment sat on each desk, as if waiting for them.

"Er, Professor, I, uh, I was wondering, before we start, If I could ask a, er... favor.

Her toad-like eyes narrowed.

"Well, you see, uh, I'm on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and the tryouts are five o'clock this Friday and I was- I was wondering if, um, maybe, you could, uh-"

Jack jabbed him in the ribs. "Quit stuttering," he hissed.

"I was wondering if I could skip detention that night, I could do it another night instead."

Even before Harry had finished speaking Jack knew it was a lost cause.

"Oh, no," said Umbridge, smiling so widely that she looked as though she had just swallowed a particularly juicy fly. "Oh, no, no, no. This is your punishment for spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories, Mr Potter, and punishments certainly cannot be adjusted to suit the guilty one's convenience. No, you will come here at five o'clock tomorrow, and the next day, and on Friday too, and you will do your detentions as planned. I think it rather a good thing that you are missing something you really want to do. It ought to reinforce the lesson I am trying to teach you."

Both Harry and Jack gritted their teeth. 'Evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories'? Fury and frustration welled up inside Jack in equal measure. This, this right here,was every child's worst nightmare. Someone in a position of power, untouchable by the rules, who refuses to listen. It was infuriating, and it made him feel helpless, and he hated it.

She watched them smugly, as if she knew what they were thinking, and wanted them to start yelling again. Just to give her a reason to punish them more. With tremendous effort, Jack and Harry forced themselves into the chairs.

"There," said Umbridge sweetly. "We're getting better at controlling our tempers already, aren't we?"

_No, not really. I still feel the exact same desire to punch you. Possibly throw you out the window, can't be too hard_. The temperature inched down.

"Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me. No, not with your quills," she added, as Harry and Jack bent down to open their bags. "You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are."

That instantly roused Jack's suspicion. She handed them both long, black quills, which Jack eyed distrustfully.

"I want you to write 'I must not tell lies'." The room lost another degree.

"How many times?" Harry asked. Jack was amazed Harry could maintain his manners.

"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in." Her syrupy tone didn't falter. "Off you go."

Harry frowned, "We don't have any ink."

"Oh, you won't need ink."

Jack put the tip of the quill to the parchment and began to write. First Harry then Jack gasped in pain. Searing agony flared up on Jack's hand at the same time as the words had appeared on the paper in dark red ink. Jack looked at Harry. The ink on his paper gleamed scarlet as did the back of his hand. B_lood! We're writing in our own blood!_

They glared accusingly at Umbridge, "Is something wrong?" Umbridge asked sweetly. Her wide smile was what finally made Jack snap.

"Wrong?! Of course there's something wrong! We're writing in our own blood!" Jack snarled, and the temperature plummeted enough for Umbridge to shiver.

"Watch your tone, young man," Umbridge reprimanded sternly. His jaw dropped. Jack was no stranger to painful punishment, but carving into the back of your own hand for hours on end was just sadistic.

"W- watch my tone? Wha-?" Jack was so angry he could barely speak. The windows frosted over. He stood abruptly, yanking up his bag. "I'll be leaving now." He snarled. The Guardians would be hearing about this.

"Sit down!" Umbridge snapped.

"No. I will not sit here with you, you sadistic-"

Umbridge stood, flabby face flushed with rage.

"Sit down THIS INSTANT!"

Jack glared, the wind swirled around the room in icy gusts and the windows creaked with frost.

"Sit down, or I will go to The Minister."

"Dumbledore is in charge of Hogwarts, not Fudge."

"Not for much longer," She muttered, so quietly he almost missed it, "Dumbledore would never believe you." She replied, louder.

"Oh, he'd believe me."

"You have no proof," she retorted smugly.

Jack pointed at Harry, and then at the back of his own hand, only for his eyes to widen in disbelief. The cuts had healed.

"No one except Dumbledore believes Harry, and you would need ministry approval to do anything."

"I think you do believe Harry, but you're too scared to admit it. Well, I've got news for you, just because you don't believe something, because you don't want it to be true, doesn't mean it isn't happening. By being cowards you're just letting the situation get worse than it already is."

"Cease these lies!"

"Plus." Jack brandished the feathered quill and bloody parchment, "I think these are pretty good proof."

He practically dragged a stunned Harry towards the door, "If you try this with anyone else, we go to Dumbledore."

And with that, they left.

* * *

As soon as they left Umbridge's office, Jack hurried towards the owlery. Harry watched him go, stunned. He had never, ever seen someone stand up to a teacher like that. He wasn't sure if it was brave, or idiotic. Harry sighed and headed back to the Gryffindor tower. Something moved ahead of him.

"Ron?"

Ron whipped around, guiltily trying to hide his new broomstick behind him.

"I thought you had detention."

"I did. Never mind that, I'll explain later. What are you doing?"

"Er, nothing."

"Oh, come on. You can tell me." Harry coaxed.

"I - well - well, okay, I'll tell you, but don't laugh, all right?" Ron said defensively, turning redder with every second. "I - I thought I'd try out for Gryffindor Keeper now I've got a decent broom. There. Go on. Laugh."

"I'm not laughing," said Harry. Ron blinked. "It's a brilliant idea! It'd be really cool if you got on the team! I've never seen you play Keeper, are you good?"

"I'm not bad," said Ron, who looked immensely relieved at Harry's reaction. "Charlie, Fred and George always made me keep for them when they were training during the holidays"

"Were you going to practice?" Harry asked. Ron nodded uncomfortably. "Come on."

"What?" Ron asked confused. Harry grinned.

"We're getting my broom so I can help you practice." He replied. A slow smile spread across Ron's face, and Harry's grin widened.

* * *

**I can't thank all of you wonderful people who bothered to read this enough. I love hearing what you think, and those of you who take time out of your day to read this, and especially those of you who review. I'm trying to give all my stories a new chapter, so that may take a while. Those of you that read my other stories be on the look out (except the great purge one-shot and the Tunnels). Love you guys, -Lin.**


	15. Keeper tryouts

**Guest reviewer: I totally agree, I don't see Jack in Slytherin, but it is a popular choice for a lot of writers. I don't agree with it, he's too brave and too loyal too quickly, and, devious though he can be, I don't see the cunning, ambition, or ruthlessness that are quintessential in Slytherin students.**

* * *

Jack was in the owlery, watching Baby Tooth fly off determinedly, his hastily scribbled letter clutched in her tiny hands. He absently stroked the feathers of a snowy owl that had taken a liking to him. She was Harry's owl, Hedwig. Frowning moodily out the window at the sunny blue sky, he waited for his temper to simmer down. Jack reflected on the letter he had written, and how the Guardians would react.

_Dear Guardians,_

_Our new defence against the dark arts teacher, Dolores Umbridge, is insane. She gave me and Harry detention (calm down, Tooth) and made us write lines with an enchanted quill, one of which I have sent along with this letter. DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT write with it. It uses your own blood, carving the words you write into your , you read that right. I told you, she's insane. Apart from that though, school's actually not all that bad. Yes Tooth, I made friends. Plus, most of the classes are actually interesting, apart from Herbology, Divination, and History of Magic, which is taught by a ghost. Yeah, a real, actual ghost. Professor Binns. That reminds me, Trelawny, the Divination teacher, is a bit off. Not like the Umbridge, but still. I'll owl you soon, _

_Jack❆_

It was no use. Jack glanced around the owlery. Birds of every size and color filled the room, sleeping in the rafters, hooting softly, of flapping their wings tiredly, but there were no people. A grin crept across the youths face. He pulled his staff from it's chain and whispered, "Engorgio". It instantly sprang to full size. He glanced around one more time, and jumped out of the window.

His temper abated quickly, and he grinned. Jack loved to fly. The wind in his hair, carrying him wherever he wanted to go. This was freedom. This was bliss. Of course, he was careful to remain high, so no one would notice him.

A shout sounded from the direction of the Quidditch pitch, and Jack turned. He saw two figures on broomstick, and instantly recognized the shock of red hair as a Weasley. The other boy had unruly black hair, and he guessed instantly that it was Ron and Harry. They were flying. Hm. Now was as good a time as any to learn, right?

He dove toward the pitch, being careful neither boy saw him. A soon as he landed he murmured, "Reducio," and set off to the field.

When he arrived he joined Hermione, who watched discreetly in the stands, and watched the two boys play. Harry was serving as a Chaser, throwing the quaffle at Ron, who was playing Keeper. Both boys were talented, but Harry was something else. He zoomed around on the broom like he was born to fly, and Jack had no trouble seeing why he had been the youngest Seeker in a century.

After a particularly impressive save by Ron, Jack and Hermione began clapping, making their presence known. The two airborne figures whipped around in surprise, Ron nearly dropping the ball he was holding. After a moment the boys alighted on the pitch. Harry was grinning and Ron looked uncomfortable. Hermione and Jack made their way forward, both smiling.

"Hey." Harry called, Firebolt tucked under his arm. Ron followed him with the Cleansweep.

"Hey, you guys were great." Hermione complimented. Harry's grin got bigger and Ron shifted. They probably blushed, but their cheeks were already too red from the wind to tell.

"Angelina will be glad you can go to Keeper tryouts." Jack commented. Both Ron and Hermione looked amazed.

"You can?" Hermione asked.

"She let you off?" Ron said incredulously. Harry shifted.

"Yeah, you see, there was a, er, problem with the detentions, so we're both off." He explained. Jack's eyebrow twitched up, lying while telling the truth? How very Slytherin. "Anyway," Harry quickly changed the subject, "I remember on the train you wanted to learn to fly, right?"

Jack grinned and nodded. Harry handed over the Firebolt gently, it was clear he cared about the broom. He coached Jack on how to grip the broom properly, so as not to fall off, and the other basics of broom handling. With a grin, Jack kicked off.

It wasn't all that different than flying with the wind, and Jack loved it. It was easy, natural. When he touched down again, even Harry was impressed.

They traded off brooms, taking turns in the air for the next few hours. Eventually Hermione-who had remained in the stands, preferring to keep both feet firmly planted on the ground- called a halt.

Reluctantly agreeing that they needed to go in and finish their homework, the quartet traipsed back to the common room. Jack was in a considerably better mood. It soured slightly when seeing the mound of homework they would have to do. With a sigh, they set to work.

One Bowtruckle drawing and a good few inches of parchment later, an owl interrupted their studious atmosphere. Well, it wasn't that studious. Harry and Ron were chatting idly over their essay, Jack and Hermione inserting ideas or pointers every now and then.

Jack recognized the owl as the one he sent to the Guardians earlier. How it had gotten to the North Pole and back so fast, Jack didn't bother asking. "Who's owl is that?" Harry asked.

"I borrowed it from the school." Jack replied, standing to let the bird in. The annoyed, slightly ruffled owl hopped over the window sill and glided over to the chairs. Jack sat down again, untying a velvet bag and a letter from the owl's leg.

He checked the bag first. Dreamsand, like he'd thought. He was careful not to let the others see, though. With their track record, the last thing he needed was for them to get suspicious. He set the bag down beside him, he'd know if someone tried to look into it.

"What is that, then?" Ron asked, nodding to the red velvet bag.

"Nothing, it's from my uncle." He waved them off. He hoped his nonchalant, slightly annoyed tone made it seem like a silly family thing, and he guessed from their expressions he'd pulled it off well enough. He unrolled the letter next.

_Dear Jack__, _That was Tooth's handwriting. He cringed. "What?" The trio asked at the same time.

"My aunt." He replied, the fear in his voice clearly understood by Ron, if not Harry and Hermione.

"What's so bad about your aunt?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing, she's great. It's just, she gets kind of overprotective." Hermione and Harry nodded, understanding.

_If this Umbridge comes near you again, you have our permission to freeze her where she stands. Understood? Good. You have to do something to stop that despicable woman. The only reason I didn't fly down there and stop her myself is because Bunny and North stopped us. Sandy was all for it. The Dreamsand is for emergencies, Jack. Not Pranks. Unless it's on Umbridge, we decided that's okay. Be careful, Jack. Please. Something big is happening. We spoke to Dumbledore, but he can't do anything with the Ministry breathing down his neck. I asked about Harry's scar as well. Dumbledore said that Harry can tell what Riddle is thinking sometimes, and is afraid Riddle will be able to do the same to Harry. He can't do anything without proof, but the Dreamsand will be able to tell if his dreams are real, of purposefully planted by Voldemort. Once again, Jack, be careful. _

_Love_

_Tooth (and the others)_

"What's it say?" Ron asked. Jack sighed and rolled up the letter.

"The usual, stay away from Umbridge, stay out of trouble, etcetera. Also, apparently, Dumbledore is stuck. Umbridge must be reporting to Fudge, he can't do anything."

Hermione's eyebrow arched. "How do they know that?"

"My Uncle North is old friends with him, remember? Also, it's not that big a leap to make." He pointed out. Hermione seemed to consider this for a moment, before nodding.

"Fair enough. Come on, we should finish this." She nodded at the papers, and the four got to work.

* * *

The next few days passed in much the same way. Hagrid had still not returned, Umbridge remained an evil old toad, and every time Trelawney saw him she looked as if she would faint. The upside was Harry's mood seemed to have improved significantly, now that they were flying every afternoon and Angelina was no longer angry at him. Jack had requested a broom from North, and he had come through magnificently. The broom was a work of art, according to Harry and Ron. Even Jack could see the beauty and quality in it. North had affectionately christened it the _Guardian 5, _which made Jack smile and the others confused.

He and Hermione watched Ron's tryout from the stands, while Harry encouraged him from the field with the team. Ron was a decent Keeper, and was doing well, when Harry suddenly froze and went pale. It seemed that no one except Jack and Hermione had notice. "His scar." Hermione hissed worriedly, then seemed to realize who she was talking to.

"That's bad, right?" Jack asked, he could feel the malevolence from there, something akin to what he had sensed in Pitch. "I mean, that's not a normal scar, it was caused by seriously dark magic."

Hermione regarded him warily. He noticed. "I've had my share of bad experiences, Hermione. I want to help."

She seemed to read the genuine worry in his eyes, before nodding. "I'll talk to the others. If they agree, then we'll talk to you. If they don't, drop the issue and pretend this never happened."

"Deal." And they returned to the game, though they glanced back at Harry repeatedly.


	16. Two truths

Jack was swept along with a horde of ecstatic Gryffindors, lead by Fred and George, who had a stunned looking Ron on their shoulders. He caught a glimpse of Harry, wind swept and grinning, as Hermione made her way over. The two of them would probably discuss it and decide, and let Ron know later. He wouldn't appreciate it, but Hermione was pretty determined. Jack shrugged and pushed it aside. He was the guardian of fun, and Gryffindor quidditch parties were _fun._

Later, while he was laughing and talking with the twins and Lee, a butterbeer clutched in one hand, and a Fainting Fancy in the other (he had been curious, and was examining the candy and giving the trio tips), Harry and Hermione slipped back into the common room.

* * *

Harry grinned at Ron's stupefied expression. His enthusiasm, however, was slightly dampened by what had happened earlier. Hermione hurried up to him, brown eyes flashing with concern. She grabbed his arm and hauled him away, ignoring any protest he might have given. Harry was vaguely concerned about her odd behavior, and this only increased when she slung him into an empty classroom.

She hurriedly locked the door, before waving her wand and mumbling under her breath. Harry's trepidation grew. Those were privacy charms, if he wasn't mistaken. Which he might be, but going by how Hermione was acting, he wasn't.

The brunette spun around to face him. "Jack."

"Er, what?" Harry stared at her in open confusion. She rolled her eyes.

"He saw what happened today."

"So?" Hermione chewed her lip, debating what to say next.

"I think he knows more than he's saying."

"You think he might be a Death Eater?" Harry asked, surprised. Hermione was the last person he thought would jump to that conclusion. Hermione shook her head, and relief washed over him.

"No. But there's something off about him" Her eyes glinted, and Harry was instantly on guard. He knew that look. "But that isn't the point. He knows something is off about your scar."

"You think we should tell him?" Harry was stunned.

"It's your decision." She relied, avoiding the answer.

"But you think we should." It wasn't a question. She bit her lip, then nodded slowly.

"Yes. Yes, I think we should."

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." And with that, the two fifth years slipped back to the tower for some much needed sleep.

* * *

Harry slept fitfully, dreaming about the door at the end of the hall. He wasn't the only boy in Gryffindor tower plagued by nightmare that Friday. No, a certain blue eyes spirit had similar troubles. Jack, being a spirit, didn't often get nightmares, but that night, he did. He dreamed of a frozen pond, cracking beneath his feet. Of cold blackness waiting below, and a door. An old, black door, shining in the dark. That door was wrong. It was wrong, wrong, wrong. _Stay away from that door! _

The door melted into a puddle of silver light, and relief swept through him. It got brighter and brighter until it burned. It burned freezing cold, like ice. Ice was _his. _Ice was safe, as long as Jack Frost was there to make sure.

His eyes snapped open to someone shaking him awake. He groaned, glaring out of one slitted blue eye at whoever dared wake him at such a wretchedly early hour. And on a Saturday, too. For MiM's sake, _no one _should be up before the sun on a weekend.

His blurry vision cleared, and he could see Harry and Hermione, with a half asleep Ron. Harry didn't look as if he had slept well, and Jack frowned. Maybe he should use that dream sand tonight. He sat up, putting as much irritation as he could muster into his glare.

"We need to talk." Harry said grimly. Jack sighed, before standing. Energy quickly returned to the young boy. Sleep never held onto Jack for long when he could be doing something else. At least, not when it was interesting.

"Lead on." The four of them hurried as silently as they could down into the common room, Ron muttering mutinously. They sank into the puffy armchairs, which were blessedly warm for Ron, Harry, and Hermione. Jack didn't mind the cold.

"You deserve and explanation." Hermione said firmly.

"We're trusting you here." Harry warned. "Almost no one else knows about this." Jack nodded seriously, then frowned.

"Then why are you telling me?" The trio shared a look.

"Honestly," Hermione began. "We aren't sure."

"Personally," Ron muttered. "I think they're barmy." Hermione shot him a reproachful look.

"But, you stood up to Umbridge, Dumbledore trusts you, and you are one of the few people who believes me about last year." Harry continued. Jack nodded, and the trio launched into the tale.

By the time they were done, Jack was frowning fiercely. They looked at him with concern, not sure what he was going to say. The pale youth stood, and began to pace, anger smoldering inside of him. "Excuse me." He said tightly, and hurried out of the common room. The trio watched him go, confused.

Jack flung himself out of the first window that was big enough, full sized staff in hand. He flew at a breakneck speed toward the trees. How could that slimy, snake faced mad-man dare do such a thing! Voldemort would pay. Jack recognized the signs. Of course he recognized the signs of a horcrux. How could he not? He remembered the horror that had swept through the spirit world nearly three hundred years ago when the magic was created. He had still been new to everything, but even he had paid attention to the rumors.

The very idea made him want to be sick. To force that upon a child an innocent baby? It was the Guardians job to protect children, and by the moon, they would. He landed in the woods, and let out an explosion of rage fueled magic. Ice crept up the trees and along the ground, and heavy snow began to fall. It was still early for snow at Hogwarts, but hopefully no one would pay it any mind. After all, there was so much magic in the air, no one could be sure what strange thing may happen next.

Once he vented his anger, Jack shot away to the owlery, scratched out a short note, and sent it on it's way. That done, he returned to the common room. The trio had their heads together, talking in low voices. They fell silent when Jack entered the room.

He was slightly calmer, but his expression was still dark.

* * *

Harry studied Jack as he walked over. He, Hermione, and Ron had been confused by his reaction to the story, and the rage on his face was not what they were expecting. The strange boy sat down stiffly, blue eyes flashing.

"Jack?" Hermione asked hesitantly. His murderous expression softened slightly.

"Sorry Hermione. It's just," He took a deep breath. "Harry, has Dumbledore told you why your scar does those things?" Harry blinked in confusion.

"Um, no?" It came out as more of a question. An expression of frightening anger flitted across his face. "Why?" Jack breathed deeply.

"Have you ever heard of a Horcrux?"


	17. A what?

"A what?" Ron asked in confusion. Even Hermione had no idea what he was talking about, and that was rare.

Jack nodded to himself. "I didn't think so. It isn't exactly something you'll stumble across in the school library." He leaned forward, his usually cheerful expression dark and stormy. "A horcrux is one of the darkest, most vile pieces of magic that has ever existed."

"But what is it?" Hermione asked anxiously, brown eyes wide.

"Immortality." Jack replied bitterly.

"Immortality?" Harry repeated.

"Of a sort." Jack replied. The trio shared a look. This did not sound good. Jack took a deep breath. "A horcrux is a piece of someone's soul." The three teenagers expressions morphed to shock. "It can be anchored to an object. Any object, even something seemingly harmless. When that person dies, as long as the horcrux exists, they are still attached to the living world."

"Okay, I can see how that would be bad." Harry began slowly. "But what is so evil about it?"

Jack's face twisted. "It is very difficult to create a horcrux. You can't just take a piece of your soul away and still be _okay_. You have to rip your soul apart. That is magic of the darkest kind. To split your soul…" Jack shuddered. "A horcrux can only be created by murdering someone else."

The trio blanched, looking sick. "It is the wickedest of magic. A person's souls isn't meant to be fragmented. It's just _wrong. _It's evil." Jack continued passionately. "Very few people have ever successfully created a horcrux. Few people, even the cruelest of men, would be willing to pay the coast. As far as the wizarding world knows, no one has ever made more than one."

By this point Harry was was very white. The other two looked as if they would be sick. "But, um, but what does that have to do with my scar?" he sounded choked, and looked terrified of the answer. Jack really did not want to have to tell him.

"Voldemort," Ron flinched violently and Hermione winced, "is one of the only known makers of a horcrux." Harry closed his eyes, looking very ill. Hermione looked on the verge of tears, and Ron was gritting his teeth so hard Jack worried they might shatter.

"What are you saying?" Hermione whispered.

"I'm saying I don't think he only made one." His stomach twisted and rolled violently at the thought. The thought was utterly repulsive, and so, so wrong.

"What has this got to do with Harry?" Ron demanded, his anger masking fear and horror. Jack looked at Harry sadly. He could see the comprehension and denial mixing in Harry's eyes.

"No." He breathed. Jack looked down, unable to meet Harry's eyes. Lily's eyes. The woman who had died so bravely for her son, and whose death very well may have destabilized Voldemort's soul to the point it latched on to her baby at Riddle's death.

To kill someone like that, a mother protecting her child, someone so _good _was vile enough to unsettle an already shredded soul. It explained the mental connection between the two, the nightmares, the pain Harry felt.

"I'm sorry Harry." Harry looked nauseous and horrified, gripping his dark hair tightly. Hermione was crying silently, and Ron resembled a statue.

"Is, um, is there any way to know for sure?" Hermione managed.

Jak opened his mouth to reply, but before he could the barn owl he had borrowed from the school rapped on the window. He sprang to his feet and darted over. Clutching the letter in his hand, he hurried back to his chair.

Sandy's normally neat, flowing script was dark and jagged with his rage, the ink glittering faintly with dreamsand. It skipped over normal greetings, launching straight into his tirade. For someone who was mute, usually had a lot to say.

_Jack, if you're right we need to be sure. Use the dreamsand to check. Normally it would indicate and sooth nightmares, but if he is having nightmares due to a horcrux, the sand will let you know. Most importantly, tell Harry straight away. He won't appreciate having something like this kept from him, and he deserves to know._

Jack blinked. Huh. That was surprisingly short and to the point.

"What is it." Ron finally spoke.

"My uncle Sandy." Jack muttered absently, thoughts racing.

"Hang on." Hermione realized suddenly. "If horcruxes are so evil, how come you know so much about the."

"Oh, uh…" That one he had not been expecting. "My uncle North. He works with Dumbledore, remember? He researched ways to fight dark magic during Voldemort's first rise to power. He stumbled across them by accident, but by that time it was too late to be any use. After that he hid all the information away and didn't bring it out again." Eh, as far as on-the-spot lies went, it was pretty good.

Hermione looked at him suspiciously, the gleam in her eyes suggesting she didn't quite believe him, but didn't raise any more questions.

"So?" Harry asked shakily.

"So…?" Jack furrowed his brow.

"Is there a way to know."

"Oh! Normally there wouldn't be, because horcruxes tend to be inanimate objects, but as you're alive, yeah." He jumped to his feet, ran upstairs, grabbed the dreamsand, and was back in moments.

"Remember what my aunt sent me?"

"Yeah?" Harry replied suspiciously.

He opened the bag, displaying the glittering powder to the others. "It's called dreamsand." He explained. "It dispels nightmares, and will let you know if dreams are genuine or not. I asked for it originally because I noticed Harry wasn't sleeping well." He lied smoothly.

"Dreamsand? I've never heard of it." Hermione frowned, and Ron nodded.

"You wouldn't have, it isn't often used." Jack shrugged. Hermione raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. If it would help Harry, then she would go along with it. For now.

"What do we do?" She asked. Jack grinned slightly, the spark returning to his eyes.

"First, we need somewhere safe, away from the professors, especially Umbridge. Any ideas?" The three looked at each other.

"Well, there's the shrieking shack." Hermione suggested. Harry instantly shook his head.

"No." Hermione frowned.

"Then where? We can't use an abandoned classroom, the dormitories, or the common room." She replied. "There isn't anywhere in Hogsmeade where we won't be overheard."

"Well." Jack clapped his hands. "That's our first challenge, then. Find somewhere safe." The four looked at each other, and nodded determinedly.


End file.
